Dawn to Dusk
by Novelist's Fantasy
Summary: The Nightwalkers and Shadowlocks have always hated each other, leaving a trail of blood throughout history. And that was why Dreyon hated Ellis. And that was why Ellis hated Dreyon. But when other forces threaten the future of their friends and family... working together would either save them or tear them apart.
1. Prologue

**Hello everyone! Here's another Community Fanfiction. This time, it's written by shadowell and chocolatebackground. It's written for a friend of ours, pokadota12.**

 **As you guys can probably see, this story's about vampires.**

 **At any rate, have fun reading!**

 **Dawn to Dusk**

 **Prologue**

 _Year 1829 B.C._

Dreyon had no idea.

Yes, Alice had been bedridden for a very long time already- so long she had forgotten the ability to walk, but he didn't know the sickness was so bad.

Her sickness was not uncommon, but it had taken the lives as many people as the amount of people the doctors managed to save. Physicians try their best to help their patients fight this new flu, but in the end it all depended on luck.

Having grown up with Alice, Dreyon knew her to be a very lucky girl. Even though she had never been truly healthy, she had not yet lost the fight to any sickness. She had spent most of her childhood battling virus, but won every fight and continued to grow into a beautiful young woman that was doted on by many. Dreyon knew that if it wasn't for her health, she would've had a line of suitors outside her door, wanting her for her gentle and sweet personality and luring beauty.

Everybody loved her, and there was nobody who didn't pray for her to recover.

But maybe it was his sixth sense, maybe it was the monster inside him.

Because looking at her in her bed, frail and sickly, Dreyon knew. He knew, and he hated that he knew. He hated that while on his lips he comforted her and promised her a wonderful, lively future, his heart betrayed him and mourned for her instead.

But then that day as he looked into the coffin, looked down on her beautiful face and that perfect figure in the simple white dress, still and unmoving, he realized that it wasn't his heart that betrayed him.

It was his lips.

And from that day on, he was a monster.

 **Πρωί ως το σούρουπο**

 _Year 1678 BC_

Ellis didn't know why she started running. Maybe it was her sixth sense.

She was walking home after picking mushrooms in the forest. Her little basket was full of it, her hands stained with dirt, and her bare feet padding over the damp earth. She didn't mind the dirtiness. But she did mind the dark. She had taken much longer than expected, and was hurrying home.

As she walked and walked… something felt wrong. She sped up. Her leisure walk soon turned into a trot, and the trot soon turned into a sprint as she tore through the trees, her basket banging against the trunks. Her bare feet pounded on the ground, and the wind whipped her hair back.

Suddenly, she heard another set of footsteps which was not her own. Ellis turned back and screamed.

There was a man behind her, catching up so quickly. He grabbed her, and both of them tumbled down a slope. Ellis yelped in shock as she smashed against a tree, knocking the wind out of her.

The man grinned.

And that was when the pain began.

 **Πρωί** **ως** **το** **σούρου** **π** **ο**

 _Year 1678 BC_

When Ellis woke up again, she wasn't her.

Or at least, she knew that she wasn't the old her. She just suddenly knew that she would never be able to go back to her quiet little town, her happy little family, and her peaceful life. No one told her that. Deep inside of her, she just knew.

Ellis remembered something tearing into her, teeth slicing open skin and scratching onto bone. She remembered screaming as hot blood gushed out. She remembered trying to run, trying to fight, her fists flailing and feet thrashing, but in the end… she fell asleep. She didn't know how long she had slept for, but when she woke, she wasn't her.

When her eyes opened, she saw the sunlight shining down on her, filtering through the tender green leaves of the trees above her before landing on her skin…

Ellis covered her eyes, wincing. The sunlight seemed to be too hot. It didn't burn her. It was just uncomfortable. Groaning, she rolled off to a small patch of shade.

Carefully, she got up on her elbows. Everything was so clear. She had good eyesight, but… but this was amazing. She could see all the way up to the little caterpillars on a tree at least twenty meters away. And… she felt so… alive. Her small body was filled with energy, and when she reached up to rub her eyes, every movement was smooth and easy. It was amazing.

Then… she realized that she was thirsty.

Well, that was no big surprise. After all, she might have slept for days.

Ellis got to her feet, tripping over her baggy, blood-stained dress, and made her way down to a small stream. She cupped some water with her hands and drank, but the water did nothing to sooth her thirst. Frowning, she drank more. It didn't work.

Frowning, Ellis looked down into the water. Ellis had always been beautiful, and the same beautiful face looked back: soft golden curls, a pale face, full pink lips and bright green eyes... but there was something poking into her mouth. Ellis opened her mouth, and recoiled in shock.

Her incisors had become fangs.

Ellis ran a tongue over it. The sharp fangs nicked her tongue, and the coppery tang of blood filled her mouth.

Ellis swallowed.

And she felt… better. Her thirst was still there, but she definitely felt better than before.

Ellis swallowed again. And again. And again. Until she couldn't taste the blood in her mouth anymore.

Oh no.

Ellis suddenly remembered the big old book of nursery tales her mother would read to her every night: about ghosts, werewolves, vampires…

Before Ellis fell asleep, she remembered something tearing into her throat. She remembered hearing the creature suck her blood. She remembered the fangs, the fear…

Ellis clapped a hand over her mouth.

What if she became one of those… creatures?

 **Πρωί** **ως** **το** **σούρου** **π** **ο**

Time passed.

And Ellis survived.

Well, she did do pretty well for the next two hundred years. She spent at least a decade away from civilization, trying to figure out what in the world had happened to her. After twenty years of hiding, she finally crept out of the shadows, towards her old home and family.

But they had screamed when they saw her: still young and pretty, and back from the dead. They grabbed pitchforks and torches, chasing her away. Ellis tried to protest. She searched for her family, her friends, but all of them were screaming. They called her a demon.  
Her hand accidentally brushed against a torch, and Ellis shrieked. The fire seemed to be eating her alive. The villagers shouted in triumph, and threw blazing oil at her. Hurt and confused, Ellis ran. She had nearly died that day, nearly killed by the people who had loved her.

From that day on, Ellis knew that she must be careful. She couldn't stay in the same place for too long. She learned to survive.

For the next two hundred years, Ellis moved from country to country, city to city. She visited the different states of America. She traveled all over Europe. She saw the world.

Over time, she learned to forget about her family. She learned to accept herself for who she is.

Πρωί ως το σούρουπο

 _Year 1889 AD_

Ellis sat at the café. France always had such lovely little restaurants, and such a delicate culture. Everything there seemed so elegant and dainty. But Ellis didn't complain. In a way, the peacefulness and elegance was a nice escape from the chaos of the world around her.

Ellis took a sip of her coffee, careful not to drip any on her plum-colored gown. A small party walked past her. She could feel the women glancing at her enviously, at her soft golden curls, at her perfect figure, at her bright green eyes. They were probably wondering how she managed to keep herself so healthy and young.

But let's not tell them that being a vampire can keep you from aging.

"Nice day, huh?"

Ellis looked up to see a well-dressed man standing before her. He wore an elegant suit and a neat hat which covered an awful lot of his face. A gold-topped cane tapped on the ground elegantly as he moved.

"Yes, I suppose it is." Ellis said easily, taking another sip.

The man sat down beside her. Of course, Ellis would be able to tear any threat to shreds, but strangely enough, that man made her feel a little too uneasy…

The man lifted his hat briefly and smiled.

Ellis's eyes widened.

The smile revealed teeth. And the teeth were sharp.

"You…" Ellis croaked. For the last two hundred years, she had tried so hard to find more of her kind. She had tracked down rumor after rumor, tale after tale, but she couldn't find anyone. In the end, she had given up. And now… one of her kind had found her…

"Yes," the man's smile widened. "I'm one of you too."

"There's more of us?" Ellis whispered.

"Plenty more," the man laughed. "In fact, I'm the leader of a clan."

"A clan!" Ellis covered her mouth with her hands. There were more of her! She wasn't alone!

"Yes," the man held out a hand. "I'm the leader of the Shadowlock Clan. Would you like to join us?"

Ellis didn't hesitate.

"Yes."


	2. One

**I**

It was a beautiful morning. The temperature, the nature, the scenery… everything was so pretty and perfect. It was a nice change, after the events of yesterday.

Needless to say, she kind of screwed up the previous school she was in. She and Serena were just minding their own bloody business, when a few kids got a little grabby. Of course, they had no idea that they've picked the wrong kids to mess with, because approximately two seconds later, they found themselves flying through the air, reeling from a mighty kick, and slamming against the opposite end of the hallway with six broken ribs.

Later that night, there were a few incredibly distressed parents calling the school. And needless to say, Ellis and Serena made themselves scarce.

The second the news reached the Shadowlocks, their clan, Ellis and Serena said their statements, accepting their punishments (nothing too bad, thank goodness. Just a quick two-day suspension) and hightailed out of the school district. Since they've been doing this for quite some time already, they picked a nice, new school, rented apartments, and got there. And Ellis was quite proud that they managed to get all of that done in just one night.

Before bed, Ellis and Serena popped open a bottle of champagne. Technically speaking, they were underage, but who cares?

The next morning, Ellis woke up when her alarm started beeping next to her ear. She peered out of the window, and smiled. It really was a beautiful morning. The sun shone lightly over the clouds, a cool wind toning the temperature down. A few sparrows flitted by, throwing little blobs of shadow over the pavement. Below her, she could hear families getting up, cooking breakfast, and packing bags.

Ellis crawled out of bed, slipping into jeans, a dark grey top, and a light cream-colored jacket. She stuffed a few books into her backpack, made sure everything was set, and made her way to the kitchen. Her kitchen was very simple: a stove, a cabinet, the fridge, and that's it. She opened the fridge, and grabbed a blood bag. Very casually. As long as no one happened to poke into the fridge or the trash, her little secret was safe.

Some vampires liked their blood at room-temperature. Others preferred to warm it up a bit. Some even made blood fondue or cocktails, or whatever. Honestly, Ellis actually really like blood cocktails, but she didn't have time to hit the liquor shop yet, so she stuck with sipping her blood chilled. She didn't like it warmed.

Ellis snipped the corner of the bag and deftly inserted a straw, sipping it. The metallic taste, tinged with a bit of plastic, filled her mouth, and she gulped it down. The best blood must be fresh, straight from the vein of some poor human. But the Shadowlocks banned it. And Ellis agreed. If the vampires continued to eat a human for every meal, they'd start hunting humans down to extinction, and where would they be? Blood bags were safer, but definitely less appetizing.

Ellis quickly finished her breakfast, popped a breath mint in her mouth (she made a mistake of forgetting once. When she asked what the homework was to the kid next to her, that kid promptly threw up after catching a whiff of her breath), slung on her backpack, and walked out.

Ellis strode over to the shade, where Sererna was waiting. They lived in different apartments, just to avoid suspicion.

"Hey!" Serena called, waving.

Ellis grinned, waving back.

Serena was small and pretty. She was at least half a head shorter than Ellis, and slightly plainer, but still very pretty to look at, with waist-length dark hair that glowed reddish in the sunlight, healthy pale skin, a light dash of freckles, and gorgeous brown eyes.

Together, they walked down the street, heading towards their new school.

"How'd you think this school will turn out?" Ellis asked.

Serena shrugged. "I have no idea. I flipped through their website last night again. Everything seems pretty nice."

Ellis nodded in agreement.

Soon, the school appeared before them. More and more students were there, chatting, flirting, cramming for tests, and finishing sandwiches or pop-tarts. It was so human. And despite everything, Ellis like it.

"Hey, are you guys new?" a rather handsome boy jogged over, grinning at them. "Do you need any help getting to know the school?"

Ellis opened her mouth to snap a reply, but she froze when she saw that the boy really, genuinely, did want to help, with no bad intentions in mind at all. He was literally glowing with honesty.

"It's all right, we'll find our way there. Thanks for the help!" Ellis said, smiling at him.

The boy looked a little disappointed, but backed off. Ellis shrugged.

And without further ado, they walked into their new life.

 **πρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

Dreyon sighed, lying back against the tree with his backpack as a cushion. In one hand he held a small novel, an extremely boring and practically useless book they had been studying in English Literature. However, due to the fact that they were about to have a quiz on the first five chapters of the book, Dreyon, who had never even bothered to read the book, was forced to begin studying. In the distance, the warning bell rang, sharp and urging. Sighing again, the dark haired boy rose gracefully and set off towards the building.

Just another long, boring day in his long, boring, immortal life.

The kids in his first class were crazy, boisterous and difficult to control. He often pitied the teacher, though sometimes watching that middle-aged woman squirm uncomfortably was quite amusing.

Literature was second period, so he had forty more minutes before the quiz. Dreyon began to rush, his clear, greenish-brown eyes skimming over the words while his mind tried to absorb everything his eyes managed to catch. Even so, there were still two more chapters…

Perhaps he should just skip the History lecture and focus on his Literature.

However, before he could make up his mind and block out the world, the teacher's nasal voice said loudly to be heard over the chatter of the students, "As some of you might have already discovered, we have a new student today."

Dreyon looked up, slightly surprised. He had been so intent on studying that he hadn't been noticing the situation around him. Now that he was concentrating, he easily pinpointed the new scent.

Even without looking, he knew it was a girl; a free, wild, courageous girl, judging by the fresh scent of spring and nature. There was pride, protection, and power in that girl, and also… age.

Her scent was incredibly, unbelievably old, one of the oldest he had ever gotten a whiff of.

And tainting everything red, was the smell of blood. And not just that, there were gray shadows and steeled, locked hearts.

Behind him was the scraping of a chair as the new student stood.

"What is your name?" the teacher inquired, smiling warmly and welcoming.

"Ellis Skye," the girl answered, her voice strong and steady. It was a kind voice, gentle yet powerful at the same time. Dreyon's eyes widened. And it was so familiar…

He glanced back to see the student, just beginning to sit down.

The first thing he saw was gold. Her hair was shoulder-length and slightly wavy, the color of pure gold. In one simple glance, he took in the feline grace of her movements, the attentiveness in those sharp bright green eyes.

There was a strange feeling in his chest. It felt similar to grief, but at the same time, it was different, unfamiliar than the usual ache of loss.

Ellis Skye.

Ellis, not Alice. Skye, not Goldsburn. Those eyes, bright and clear like a cat's, were green, not blue, and Alice is dead. Dead and gone.

Dreyon knew this; he knew all of this, but the feeling of déjà vu did not fade.

 **πρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

It was both amazing and frustrating how the new student- Ellis Skye, he reminded himself, was in so many of Dreyon's classes. It gave him an opportunity to observe her, but it was during Gym- the class before lunch- was his suspicions finally proven correct.

They were beginning a unit of Volleyball, and Ellis was proving herself to be an outstanding athlete. He was in the team opposite of hers, and had a nice view of her digging down to fling the ball up, or jumping high into the air to smash the ball onto the floor. It was during one of those perfect spikes of hers did he see it: a dark tattoo, winding around her thigh, mostly concealed by her sport's uniform. From far away, it looks like a thin line, but when Dreyon focused, he could see that it was made of words. A story, inked into her skin.

Shadowlocks.

Dreyon was tense. The Shadowlocks and the Nightwalkers had never gotten along well. They were two clans fighting for one space.

To the outside world, the Nightwalkers and Shadowlocks were two big companies filled with intellectuals and ran by prodigies. However, anyone inside the 'companies' would know that while some monsters are keeping the money rolling in, others are fighting- actually _battling_ for land and food.

The fight wasn't fair in any way, in Dreyon's opinion. Nightwalkers were older and more traditional. They have been here for a much longer time than the Shadowlocks, who were a group of pacifists and would avoid drinking human blood in any way they could. The group of amateurs stole blood bags from hospitals, hunted animals for their tasteless blood. It made them weak, and stupid; it dulls their senses, unlike the exotic human blood that Nightwalkers survive on.

Dreyon knew why Shadowlocks wanted the area. The thick forest gave them plenty of prey, but the Nightwalkers had dominated for longer, and this little place was disorganized enough that if someone randomly went missing, not much people would hear about it, and panic would seldom ever rise.

For centuries they had battled, and so Dreyon, as the son of the 'prodigy' that ran one of the 'companies', had every right to feel defensive. So as the bell rang and the students began to pour out of the gym, Dreyon shifted in front of Ellis, turning his head slightly and barely his fangs, allowing a low growl to build up in his throat.

A threat; a warning.

Ellis Skye did not react, merely narrowing those cat-like green eyes, pressed her lips firmly together, and stalked off.

Frustration rose in Dreyon's chest. He shook it off, but understood immediately: that girl was trouble.

 **πρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

Dreyon met Ellis a few more times in the hallways, in classes, but they skillfully ignored each other.

After school, Dreyon headed towards his club. As he strolled down a hallway, his sharp ears picked up a sound. A song. Someone was in the music room, playing the piano.

It was a beautiful piece, and it wasn't something he recognized, not like Dreyon was a music expert or anything. But it lured him in, urging him to find the source of the music.

Dreyon arrived at the music room, where the hallway was vacant except for the sounds of the delicate notes.

He peeked through the door, then immediately withdrew, biting back a curse.

It was Ellis.

The new student was perched on the piano bench, long, pale fingers gracefully gliding over the black and white keys, producing a harmony of music.

Dreyon hated it.

He hated how she was so relaxed, how she was so graceful and beautiful, just like Alice. He hated how he thought for a moment that it was Alice that played the piano, the way she used to when she was healthy. He hated how they were so alike and how Alice was gone. Gone for a long, long time. And Ellis is still alive. Alive and thriving and immortal.

Suddenly, the music changed. It became tenser, more cautious.

Realizing that his presence had been noticed, Dreyon slipped away.

His mind was reeling, his motionless heart aching. Dreyon felt overwhelmed with memories and thoughts and possibilities and responsibilities, but he managed to make it into the safety of the damp forest did he finally collapse.

* * *

 **天：我们知道我们在故事里用了你的名字，我们也非常道歉，但是我们还没认识你之前已经把那名字选好了。现在把名字换了会感觉有一点奇怪，所以就只好这样。对不起啊！**

 **And that was just a quick message. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Two

**II**

He could smell it very, very clearly. The scent of fresh, living, warm blood tainted the air, the aroma of his victim's fear permeating the surroundings.

The girl fled desperately, her breaths coming out in short, ragged gasps. She was losing speed, so exhausted she was on the edge of collapsing.

Even so, he continued to play with her, taunt her, just to taste her fear and smell her terror. The exhilaration of the race, the climaxing of the realization of a feast- it was all the things he loved about a hunt.

The girl stumbled and fell, struggling to get back to her feet.

Dreyon was almost disappointed.

But it didn't matter.

He grinned, a low, satisfied growl building up in his throat as he pounced, hands outstretched, fangs exposed.

The girl screamed.

And then, somebody appeared in front of him, standing between him and his food, and caught his hands, pushing him back and away.

Dreyon growled again, but this time it was of annoyance as he recognized the person who stood before him, proud and tall as if she owned the world. The nerve of the little bitch.

Ellis Skye.

 **πρωί ως το βράδυ**

"Hey!" Ellis shouted. Her hands clenched into fists, and she felt her eyes burn crimson with rage.

She's a nice person, and she doesn't have a short temper, but this time… What was he thinking? Killing people in broad daylight (or more accurately, night-light) was the stupidest thing someone could do. Anyone could just so happen to stumble across them, and where would they be then?

Ellis glared at the vampire before her. He looked familiar, with thick brown hair, a lean but athletic build, and greenish-brown eyes. He was also quite good-looking.

Ellis squinted briefly.

Ah, yes. He was a classmate. Dreyon, right?

"What do you think you're doing, huh?" Ellis demanded.

"Hunting," Dreyon answer simply, as if she had just asked him what was one plus one.

"Yeah, you're a little behind the times," Ellis snarled. "Let me introduce you to the newest technology: security cameras. And since every government is freaking paranoid, security cameras are everywhere. You sure you want to end up in some facility for supernatural critters just like us?"

"Well, you're a little behind the times too," Dreyon smirked, leaning back casually. He looked like a wildcat, lithe and graceful. "Have you ever heard of the word, 'hacking'? Or perhaps, 'infiltration'? Because the government can't do shit about us when we're the ones looking through the cameras before reporting the information to the bigger people. False information, of course. We're perfectly safe here."

Ellis took a deep breath. Behind her, the girl was scuttling away from both of them, her eyes wide with fear.

"Run, and don't tell anyone, or I swear that monster over there's going to eat you, all right?" Ellis said.

The girl nodded frantically, hauled herself to her feet, and took off as if death itself was chasing after her. In a way, it was.

Ellis turned back to Dreyon. He didn't look outraged, but there was a distinct flicker of annoyance on his face.

Ellis reached into her purse, glad to feel the cold plastic beneath her fingers. She grabbed it, and hurled it at Dreyon. Easily, Dreyon caught it lightly.

"A blood bag," Dreyon commented, squeezing the little red pouch.

For a moment, Ellis did want to laugh. It looked so small and pitiful compared to the hunter that was holding it. But again, that blood bag was her snack. She was really hungry, and she had just given her snack to a little monster who won't even appreciate it.

Oh well, at least she probably just saved a few more people from getting eaten that night.

"Yeah, so?" Ellis folded her arms.

Dreyon's fist tightened. The plastic seemed to bloat and stretch. The red beneath the delicate film seemed to burst from its restrains.

Then, his grasp loosened, and he tucked it into a pocket. He tipped his head easily, almost mockingly. One moment he was there, and the next moment he was gone.

Vampires were fast. They could move so fast you couldn't even see them move. Ellis could move pretty quickly, but she rarely used her super-speed anymore. Dreyon must have used his speed to 'vanish'. What a show-off.

Scowling, Ellis wrapped her jacket tightly around her shoulders and headed home.

 **πρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

When Ellis got home, she was starving. Her throat was drying up, and she could feel herself getting a little shaky from the withdrawal.

Ellis threw open the door and dropped her bag and jacket on a chair, heading towards the kitchen immediately. Her apartment smelled delicious, like… like…

Ellis froze in front of the refrigerator door. She took a few steps back, till she was out of the kitchen.

Sprawling over the Living Room floor was the girl Dreyon had wanted to eat… or had eaten. The girl's corpse was as pale as a ghost, parts of her skin shriveled and dry. Fortunately, she hadn't bed all over the carpet, but there were some stains that would give Ellis a massive headache to clean.

And… that bastard. The blood bag she had given to him was splattered on the wall, the plastic pouch lying limply on the floor. A little note in lined paper was half-soaked with blood beside the entire mess.

 _Have fun._

"Dreyon!" Ellis crumpled the note in a fist. The little piece of paper literally disintegrated in her hands. Her head was pounding, and her eyes were burning with fire. Maybe it was from hunger, but mostly, Ellis knew it was from rage.

And even through her ire, she could almost see his expression: cold, impassive, and hear his monotone voice taunting her like the sadistic murderer he is.


	4. Three

**III**

Ellis spent the rest of the night scrubbing. Scrubbing at the floor, scrubbing at the soiled carpet, and finally scrubbing the splatters off the wall. The blood on the floor came off easily, the ones on the carpet taking at least an hour, and the wall… her beautiful, fresh, white wall would forever be scarred with odd brownish smears for the rest of its life.

Ellis tossed the grimy rag into the trash, since it was literally reeking to the high heavens. She scrubbed the blood off her hands, and slumped back against the counter with a sigh, sagging slowly to the ground. She checked her watch.

3:30 AM

Yeah, that was late… or early, to be more accurate.

Ellis swallowed, her throat constricting in so much pain she coughed and gagged. She hadn't eaten a single drop of blood since the moment she came home, and for a while, her thirst was forgotten. Now that she was done, it came back full force.

Now… Mustering whatever strength she had left, she ran to the nearest bar. The light and darkness muted and blurred around her as she swirled in, grabbed a bottle of raspberry vodka and grapefruit juice, and blazed home. Without stopping, she whirled into the shower, and in moments, she was back at the kitchen, crisp and clean, mixing together the juice and vodka. Smiling, she watched the liquid turn into a brilliant shade of scarlet before popping in some ginger and rosemary sprigs. Raspberry, Grapefruit, and Rosemary Martinis always made her happy.

Last but not least, once everything was done, she carefully opened a bag of blood, pouring it in. Immediately, the liquid flushed into a dark shade of crimson. To most people, the original shade of scarlet was prettier, but to Ellis, she preferred the deeper hue. It reminded her of revenge.

Closing her eyes, Ellis took a good, long drink. Bit by bit, her energy returned to her, filling her with blissful cool. It was all very lovely, a beautiful end to a terrible night.

Πρωί ως το σούρουπο

The next morning, Ellis woke up, still tired, but feeling considerably better. Sleepily, she stumbled out of bed, brushed her teeth, tucked herself into jeans and a plaid shirt, and got ready for school. After a quick breakfast, she headed out the door.

Serena was waiting for her in the shade. Immediately, Ellis found herself smiling as she headed over.

"Hi," Serena said, handing her a coffee cup.

Ellis took a sip and her smile widened. Serena was always so good at making Blood Chocolate. The blend of chocolate, milk, and blood was perfect.

"Thanks," Ellis said, taking another sip.

Serena smiled kindly, cupping her hands around the warm Styrofoam. "What happened? You look tired,"

"Yeah, I know," Ellis said. Without further ado, she told Serena about everything that had happened the previous night, from meeting Dreyon to cleaning up the mess he left behind. Once she was done, they were a little over halfway to school, and Serena had a look of frozen shock on her face.

"You should have called me!" Serena said, aghast.

"It's all right, I didn't mind cleaning it up," Ellis said, failing to sound convincing when she was interrupted by a massive yawn.

Serena sighed. Soon, the school appeared into view, but Ellis's smile faded as she saw a rather unpleasant surprise at the gate.

"Dreyon," Serena hissed.

Sure enough, the little brat himself was standing there, leaning against the gate casually, as if owned the entire place. Students swarmed in and out of the courtyard, not talking to him, but definitely not ignoring him either, lowering their eyes in respect and even nodding from time to time.

"Sorry Dreyon. I'd love to talk, but I got some homework to catch up on. You know, I was really busy last night…" Ellis said breezily, walking past him. Serena casually gave him the finger, her little hand flying so fast that no one saw it but the intended person.

Suddenly, something cold clamped over Ellis's wrist. It was Dreyon's hand. Serena snarled, quiet but viciously. Ellis yanked her hand away and took a few steps back, just to be on the safe side. If he wanted a fight, fine. Yeah, she'd get a pretty heavy punishment, but she'd take him down with her.

"That's no excuse for not doing your homework," Dreyon said. A strange, silky quality crept into his voice. "I thought you were a good student."

"I am," Ellis said sweetly. "Now, we wouldn't want my fresh, clean record to be broken, right? So we'll just head off now, and see you later."

With that, Ellis turned sharply on her heel, and followed Celine into the school.

Πρωί ως το σούρουπο

The rest of the day went by uneventfully, which was why Ellis was on high alert when she and Serena entered the Cafeteria for lunch. Dreyon hadn't bothered them. Goodness sake, he barely even glanced at them after the morning incident for hours. Inwardly, Ellis was starting to wish that Dreyon would just… I don't know, throw a blood bomb at her head or something.

The second they stepped in, Ellis located Dreyon at the opposite end of the hall. Good. Let him stay there.

Ellis and Serena found themselves seats, sat down, and opened their packs.

Vampires could eat human food, but it was like eating dirt: edible, but disgusting and useless. That was why they preferred to bring their own lunches, with blood carefully disguised inside. Serena had a small bowl of pasta drenched in thick blood sauce, and Ellis had some blood tofu and a bottle of 'tomato juice' for lunch.

Thank goodness no one asked why their food was always so red.

Of course, the peace wouldn't last forever.

Ellis had barely stuck a spoon in her tofu when Dreyon sauntered over.

"I'm hungry, Dreyon. Please don't make me give up my snack again," Ellis snarled.

"I'm not here to take your food," Dreyon said. "Last time I recall, you were the one who gave it to me."

"So that you can stop eating people," Ellis countered.

Dreyon laughed. "You're hilarious. How old are you?"

Ellis swallowed. It had been centuries since she had to calculate her age. "About… five hundred?"

"Five hundred?" Dreyon said, a bit of shock lacing his voice.

"Yeah, I know, I'm ancient. I'm supposed to be filled with eternal knowledge and whatnot." Ellis scowled. "Glad to tell you that yes, I've seen lots of stuff, but I won't be sprouting prophecies or giving away precious advice for anyone to hear."

Dreyon chuckled. "When was the last time you've hunted?"

Ellis shrugged casually. She hoped he meant animals. "Last year, when I was in Canada."

Dreyon nodded slowly, turned, and walked away.

"What do you think he's up to?" Serena said warily.

Ellis shrugged. "I have no idea."

Πρωί ως το σούρουπο

For the rest of the day, Dreyon didn't bother any of them. Nevertheless, Ellis didn't bother relaxing. Dreyon was definitely prowling in the shadows and waiting for a chance to snap at her.

Sure enough, her prediction was correct. When she opened her locker, ready to grab her books to head home, a little note was lying among her books.

 _Hello, Ellis._

 _Meet me at six. We're hunting._

 _If you don't, you know what I can do. A Clan war might stain your record._

Ellis moaned, slumping against the locker. That bastard, that stupid, bloody bastard…

Vampire Clan wars were terrible things. It always ended with thousands of people dying. She had been through terrible ones, and she did not want to go through any more of them. Maybe Dreyon was bluffing, but Ellis really didn't want the entire town she was in to be leveled by hordes of bloodthirsty monsters.

"You win," Ellis hissed. But she couldn't help adding, "For now."

Πρωί ως το σούρουπο

Later that night, Ellis slipped out of her apartment quietly after finishing her homework, striding out the door. The night air was crisp and cool on her face, tinged with a bit of moisture from the earlier drizzle. People were rushing home, and the air was filled with the aromas of cooking dinners.

Ellis's boots clicked on the stone cobbles as she headed into an alley. She thought about leaning against the wall, but since the wall was covered in a nasty greenish moss, she chose to stand still and cross her arms instead.

There was a flash of shadow, and Dreyon appeared before her, smirking.

"You've dressed up," Dreyon noted.

Ellis felt her face warm. Well… yes, she did dress up a bit nicer than usual, but she could still move and fight. The trench coat did seem a little dramatic, but the high-heeled black boots could definitely pack a nasty punch.

"So?" Ellis said back. "It's a cold night, I don't want to freeze to death."

Dreyon laughed, but it wasn't a kind one. He tipped his head to one side, and his eyes glowed red.

"Let's hunt."

 **A quick note: Blood tofu (** **血豆腐** **) exists. It's not a made-up thing. You can actually find that in China.**


	5. Four

**Please review! It makes us happy. Thx.**

 **IV**

The night air felt cool around Ellis's face as she and Dreyon ran across the city, moving faster than anyone could see. Dreyon was on the lead, darting ahead. Ellis followed behind, trying her ultimate best to keep up. Whatever it is, Dreyon was fast.

"Where are we going?" Ellis called.

Dreyon didn't answer. But moments later, they skidded to a stop at a nightclub.

"Oh," Ellis squeaked.

That was one seriously low nightclub. It was a small, ratty place. Paint peeled off its walls, and the floor was slick with sewage and rainwater. Pounding music and weak lights swirled around them. It was awful.

"Trust me, no one is going to notice a few missing people in this shithole," Dreyon said easily. Ellis hated the blasé way he said it, as if the people there deserved to be snacks for hungry vampires.

"Let's just get this over with," Ellis growled. She wrapped her coat tighter around her, and stormed into the building.

The second she walked in, the stench nearly blew her off her feet. The entire place reeked of alcohol, sweat, cheap microwaved food, and vomit. Bracing herself, Ellis held her breath and took a step forward.

Along the wall was a bar, where an incredibly fat bartender poured a drink and tossed the empty bottle out a window, a chorus of screeching cats following the smash of glass. A DJ was in a corner, smashing a control box, screaming along with the lyrics of the nastiest song Ellis had ever heard in her life. People, young and old, writhed on the dance floor, throwing their arms in the air and… the way they danced… Ellis wasn't even doing anything, and she was already feeling embarrassed for them.

"So… any preferences?" Dreyon asked. Ellis clenched her teeth as Dreyon came up behind her. "See that guy over there? He looks good."

Dreyon pointed towards a rather good-looking guy sitting at the bar. He had tattoos swirling up his arm and peeping over his collar, and his hair was gelled back, gleaming in the weak light. Right on cue, he turned to look at her, grinning, and waved a glass at her.

"After you," Ellis suggested, her stomach churning. She was dressed in at least three layers of clothes, but that guy stared at her as if she was dressed in nothing.

"Sure," Dreyon shrugged casually. He headed over to the opposite end of the bar, where a small, rather delicate girl sat, sipping on something bright blue. She was dressed modestly enough. Ellis craned her neck, and felt instantly uncomfortable when she saw the girl clearly. That girl had long brown hair, delicate features, and looked disturbingly like Serena. The nose was a little too large, and the eyebrows were a little too thick, but other than that… Ellis scowled and slunk into the shadows, watching.

"Hey," Dreyon sat down beside the girl.

"Hi," the girl said, downing the rest of her drink.

"Do you want another drink?" Dreyon offered.

"It's my…" the girl paused. She counted her fingers slowly, one by one. "It's my… I think… I think it's my fifth drink?"

"Well, one more won't harm you," Dreyon said easily. The girl smiled drunkenly at him, sidling up.

Ellis suddenly felt like vomiting. Thank the heavens it wasn't Serena. Never in a thousand years would Serena ever do anything like that.

"How about…" Dreyon glanced at the menu. "How about a chocolate martini?"

Ellis gritted her teeth. Serena's favorite cocktail was the stupid chocolate martini.

"Too weak," the girl said dismissively. "How about... I know! A Long Island Ice Tea! Hey! You! Bartenter!"

The bartender turned to her.

"Two Long Island Ice Teas! He's paying, so get your stupid money from him, 'kay?"

The bartender glanced at Dreyon pointedly. Shrugging, Dreyon tossed some money onto the bar. Moving as fast as lightning, the bartender grabbed the money and got working. In a few moments, the drinks were ready: icy cold and the perfect for a massive hangover.

Dreyon and the girl drank. They laughed, chatted, and flirted with each other. And Ellis just stood there in the shadows, shifting from foot to foot, and feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Did they forget about her? Probably.

Slowly, Dreyon got to business. He leaned down, almost as if he was about to kiss the girl, but he went a little lower, till his mouth was over her neck. The girl was barely breathing, her eyelashes fluttering prettily over her pale cheekbones.

Then, carefully, delicately, Dreyon bit.

The girl gasped, but didn't do anything.

Then, Dreyon drank.

The girl moaned, and soon, she was seriously barely breathing anymore. Her face continued to grow paler and paler. Her entire body went limp, and in moments, she was as still as death.

Dreyon lifted her up easily, bridal style, and carried her though the back door of the bar. Fuming, Ellis followed.

And the scary thing? No one, not even the bartender who was mixing drinks right in front of them, noticed. Not a single puny human realized that there were two dangerous hunters walking among them, and had killed one of their friends.

Through the back door was a small clearing filled with trash: broken bottles, greasy wrappers, and smashed plates. A few scruffy alley cats darted away the second they stepped out. Very wise of them to do that. Ellis was getting a little hungry, and she didn't want to eat human just yet.

Ellis steadied herself and took a deep breath. The air was filled with the smell of rotting garbage, but anything was better than the stench inside the nightclub. She would love to enjoy the cleaner air for a moment longer, but she turned to Dreyon.

"Wow, great job," Ellis said sarcastically. "So that's what you call a hunt. You pick off some random girl, get her drunk, flirt with her, then you eat her. Beautifully done. I am _so_ proud of you."

Dreyon tossed the girl into the massive pile of trash, where she sank in easily. No one would probably ever find her in this dump.

"That is what you call a hunnnnn…" Dreyon slurred.

"What are you doing?" Ellis said, crossing her arms.

"I… like… hunting…" Dreyon's voice was even more slurred. He straightened up, but stumbled immediately, staggering and tipping over into a pile of garbage. Ellis grabbed his hand and yanked him upright, but he flopped onto her, nearly pushing her down. The reek of alcohol on his breath made her stomach churn.

"All right, you're drunk," Ellis said, shoving him away from her. She pushed him down to the floor, where he leaned against the wall with a groan. Hopefully he'd stay there while she tried to find a way out of their sticky situation.

Ellis sighed. This was getting a teeny bit awkward. Sometimes, vampires eat drunken humans by accident, which would mean that they just drank a whole lot of tainted blood. Of course, the alcohol wouldn't kill the vampire, but it would get them drunk. It's just like drinking a normal can of beer, really, but only twenty times stronger.

The girl mentioned that she drank… five or six drinks? That was an awful lot. To top it off, Dreyon just drank a fair amount of alcohol himself, too.

Ellis sighed one more time. She would probably have to take him back to his home, and dump him in bed, but she had no freaking idea where he lived. Another option would be to just leave him in this reeking dump, but she saw the rats, flies and maggots crawling all over the place… well, she wasn't mean enough to let him spend a night with the pests. No one deserved that.

The final option would be to take him to her home and wait for the alcohol to flush out of his system. As much as Ellis hated having him over, it was the only option that would actually work.

"You owe me big time," Ellis said viciously.

Dreyon just mumbled something unintelligible.

Ellis hauled Dreyon up to his feet and slung his arm over her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, Ellis ran.

With Dreyon loading her down, she couldn't move quickly enough to be invisible to human eyes. The best she could do is this awkward jog, still fast, but completely visible to everyone. A teenaged boy walking his dog gawped at her. An elderly couple taking a stroll gave her a funny look. And to make matters worse, she heard the wife mutter, "Children these days… always getting drunk. Next thing you know, she's sobbing her eyes out and expecting a baby!"

All right. That was slightly over the line. No, that was way over the line, but Ellis forced herself to continue running. She must not stop to snap the old lady's neck. She must not kill anyone.

Soon, they arrived back to her apartment. Unceremoniously, Ellis dumped Dreyon on the couch. The chivalrous thing to do would be to offer him her bed, but please kindly remember that (1) Dreyon was slightly dirty, and Ellis liked her sheets clean and (2) Dreyon was a completely uninvited guest. He would never in a thousand years get a five-star treatment from her.

"There you go," Ellis said, stepping back. Dreyon rolled away from her, still mumbling.

After that, Ellis headed to the kitchen, where she got out a small packet of blood. Usually, she'd add a bit of vodka or whiskey inside, but today… she had seen enough alcohol, thank you very much. Plain was good enough for her.

Ellis finished the blood bag and tossed it out. She stripped off her coat and placed it on a chair.

"Alice?"

Ellis turned to see Dreyon stirring.

"Alice, it's beautiful," Dreyon whispered.

"Who's Alice?" Ellis asked.

"It sounds so good," Dreyon murmured. A sleepy smile spread across his lips.

"Dreyon?" Ellis said.

"It's good. I lo…" Dreyon trailed off. He stirred again, and fell back asleep.

Ellis hesitated. Then, she just shrugged. Dreyon was drunk. Alice was probably some random lover or something.

Ellis went to a closet and got out a thick, warm blanket before tossing it over Dreyon. For the good measure, she also got a small stuffed animal to tuck under his head. And finally, she got a small pail from the kitchen and placed it beside him, just in case if he needed to throw up in the morning during the hangover hours.

Then, Ellis went to bed. It was definitely a very interesting, if not somewhat educational day.


	6. Five

**V**

The next morning, Ellis woke up happily when she remembered that it was a Saturday. In fact, everything seemed much brighter and happier during the weekends. The sun shined brighter, the people kinder, and it was just great.

Ellis hummed as she slipped into a simple white sundress with spaghetti straps. The delicate lace tickled her knees as she whirled through the room, picking up her dirty clothes and heading to the kitchen. Her hands flew as she ground some coffee, drained it, and added a bit of blood. Everything was so beautiful and…

Ellis walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.

There was that little mood-damper, hauling himself into a sitting position so slowly and painfully Ellis couldn't even bear to look at him. With a groan, Dreyon finally propped himself upright, grasping the coffee table for support.

Needless to say, he looked terrible. His skin was sickly, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. His hands trembled as he exhaled a long, rattling breath. He looked like a vampire who hadn't eaten for a few thousand years.

"Don't puke on my carpet. I spent forever getting the bloodstains from your little gift days ago. There's a pail beside you, so if you need to get the poison out of your system, do it there." Ellis said flatly.

"I don't need to puke," Dreyon growled.

"Great," Ellis said. She took a sip of her coffee.

And yes. Despite everything, Ellis did feel a teeny bit of guilty satisfaction as she watched Dreyon haul himself into a standing position and take a step, only to nearly fall flat on his face again.

Ellis turned back to the kitchen and poured a bag of blood into a glass.

"Here," Ellis offered, giving him the blood.

"I don't drink bagged blood," Dreyon said stiffly.

"Really?" Ellis laughed. "After yesterday, I thought you'd want to stay away from fresh blood, not blood bags."

"I don't want it, I don't need it," Dreyon snarled.

"Oh, all right, then." Ellis said, setting her coffee down and putting her hands on her hips. "So you want to come home drunk again, force _me_ to take care of you like a freaking baby, and spend your night babbling about Alice…"

Dreyon moved faster than Ellis could have ever expected. One moment, Dreyon was looking pale and sickly, barely managing to stand, and in the next moment, Ellis found herself pressed against the wall and a very tight hand around her throat.

"What did I say?" Dreyon growled.

"Look, you were drunk, and…" Ellis wheezed out, but the fist tightened.

"What did I say?" Dreyon roared.

"You just said something sounded nice, that's all!" Ellis grunted.

Dreyon's hands vanished from her throat. Shakily, Ellis got to her feet, rubbing her neck. Dreyon was now pacing around the living room like a captured animal, wild and angry. Yes, he still looked pretty bad, but there was something furious in his eyes that would make any challenger step away as fast as they could.

"Who's Alice anyway?" Ellis grumbled.

"None of your business," Dreyon snapped.

"Look, at least you could repay me for last night by telling me at least her last name…"

"Goodbye, Ellis."

With that, Dreyon stormed out of the room, leaving Ellis standing there, stunned.

"Not even a thank you?" Ellis said. She sighed. What a rude, rude boy.

Usually, Ellis would just shrug and find Serena, maybe shop a bit, but this time, she was genuinely curious. Who was this Alice? How did she make Dreyon seem almost… caring?

Of course, finding out who this Alice is might also give her some very good blackmail information. It's about time that little brat had a taste of his own medicine.

Ellis grabbed her coffee and made her way back to her room, starting her computer. The Internet was definitely one of the better inventions through the centuries. If Ellis wanted to find information about Alice, the Internet was a promising start.

Once the webpage was ready, Ellis opened a search engine and typed in 'Alice'. But before she hit enter, she remembered that there were probably millions of Alices throughout the centuries. She had to narrow the topic down a little, so she retyped it into 'Alice and Dreyon'.

Then, she hit enter.

Again, there were millions of results, and she wasn't going to waste her Saturday tracking down every single one of them. Ellis thought about narrowing the topic a bit more, but in the end… there really wasn't going to be anything good. She simply knew too little. She could add 'Nightwalker', but as Dreyon had very kindly mentioned, the vampires would wipe every trace of their existence from the Internet, so that would get her nowhere.

Scowling, Ellis flipped through a few articles. Nothing popped up to her. She had no results whatsoever.

She thought for a quick moment. What if she searched for images instead?

The images weren't as helpful as she had imagined. There were at least a few hundred Alice in Wonderland pictures, and even more pictures of random Alices from all over the world.

Ellis was on the thirty-fourth page when she saw something that stopped her. She clicked on the image, and waited for it to enlarge.

It was an old photograph, black and white, and faded with age. But there was no way the person standing there is not the one and only Dreyon Morgen.

There, Dreyon looked almost… happy. Ellis was briefly stunned. Instead of his usual sarcastic drawls, there was a genuine smile of happiness on his face. He looked so carefree… Ellis had no idea how he turned into the sarcastic creature he is.

But no, wait… there was a girl standing beside him, her arm looped through his. The girl wore a light green gown that accented her perfect figure. Her shimmery golden hair was pinned up in elaborate curls, and a delicate little hat was perched on her head. She was laughing, her face flushed, and… Ellis sat back with a jolt. The girl, Alice, looked exactly like her.

Ellis squinted again. She grabbed a small pocket mirror and glanced at her own reflection. Then, she glanced at Alice's picture. They were exactly the same. Maybe Alice's eyes were a teeny bit bigger, but that could have easily been a difference of perspective or anything, really.

Ellis exhaled. So was that why Dreyon was always acting so strangely around her? Was it because she looked exactly like his past girlfriend or something? For a moment, Ellis thought that she might be a reincarnation of this Alice or something, but then… She was born in the 1600s, where the camera was barely created. So no, she couldn't be Alice's reincarnation. But then could Alice be _her_ reincarnation? But that wouldn't make sense, since she's still alive… technically…

Ellis moaned. This was getting her nowhere.

Gritting her teeth, she printed the picture out. Dreyon would have some serious answering to do.


	7. Six

**VI**

The weekend crawled by far too slowly. All Ellis could do was to glare at the picture, pace angrily, glare at the picture again, take a cup of blood, pace a bit more, and glare at the picture again. When Serena dropped by, Ellis told her everything. And a few moments later, the two of them were glaring at the picture together, pacing together, and glaring some more.

Really, it was a beautiful weekend.

And school… school was supposed to be a terror. There were three tests and two projects due on that Monday, and Ellis didn't finish a single thing, but at the same time, she was counting the seconds till she could run into the schoolyard and question the life out of Dreyon.

When Monday came, Ellis and Serena flew. They dressed, ate, and packed so quickly they arrived at the school gate an hour earlier than usual. In fact, the freaking security guard hasn't arrived yet.

Serena opened her science textbook and started studying. Ellis opened her book too, but she knew that even if she forced herself to study, she wouldn't be able to memorize a single fact. She simply couldn't help but to stare into the distance, her heart leaping with hope the second she saw a silhouette arrive, only to be disappointed as she saw a random student walk past them.

An hour passed. The courtyard was soon filled with students milling around, chatting away. Serena had finished studying for two tests, and Dreyon still wasn't there.

"Where is he?" Ellis growled.

"Late?" Serena suggested.

Ellis scowled.

The warning bell rang. Every student rushed indoors, grabbing their books and heading to class.

"Ellis, we should go." Serena said.

"A few more minutes," Ellis pleaded.

"Dreyon's not coming!" Serena said urgently. "Come on, we're going to be late. Think about it. If he's coming, wouldn't he be here, like, thirty minutes ago?"

Ellis growled again, but what Serena said was so painfully true. Dreyon wasn't at school.

Whirling around, Ellis stormed into the building, with Serena scampering behind. When Dreyon arrived… he'd be facing hell from her.

Πρωί ως το σούρουπο

Dreyon didn't come during the first period. Nor the second. Nor the third. By the fourth period, Ellis was getting a little desperate. Why? (1) She probably flunked her entire report card, and since Dreyon didn't arrive with the answers she needed, she sacrificed her grades for nothing. (2) She was so freakishly jittery it was scaring everyone. Every time she heard footsteps in the hallway, she'd sit ridiculously straight, and stare at the door for five minutes before sinking back down. The first few times were all right, but after a while, everyone was starting to get really annoyed by her… perkiness.

During lunch, it was clear that Dreyon wasn't going to appear. As Serena and Ellis sat down with their food, Ellis slammed her fork down.

"I'm ditching school." Ellis announced.

"You sure?" Serena arched her eyebrows.

"Yes," Ellis said firmly. That was it. If Dreyon was avoiding her, fine. Be that way. But she was getting those answers no matter what.

"You really sure?" Serena asked again. "Look, I get that you're excited, but are you sure Dreyon's worth it? I mean, I'm excited too, but since Dreyon's not coming… are you sure you want to chase after him? He's a sick little brat. Just… forget about him. He's not worth it."

"I know," Ellis sighed. "But… I can't explain it. I just have to figure out what's going on. I mean, we've got freaking eternity before us, and ninety percent of it is going to be really boring. If there's something fun, I'm going for it."

"All right," Serena said.

Ellis smiled. "You're staying here, right?"

Serena smiled weakly. "Yeah. I'd like to turn in my project."

Ellis hugged Serena. "Hope you get a hundred percent. Bye!"

Serena waved as Ellis grabbed her bag and disappeared from the cafeteria.

Πρωί ως το σούρουπο

Ellis ran. She tore out of the school so fast no one saw her at all. For a moment, she paused by the sidewalk. Where would Dreyon go? Probably somewhere quiet? Or maybe he left town?

Ellis scowled, and ran again. She tore down the streets of the entire town, her eyes scanning the windows and buildings for the familiar face. But she couldn't find him anywhere.

Then, it hit her. If Dreyon was trying to avoid her, he'd probably do something entertaining to pass time… like hunting. There were probably lots of good hunting spots. Bars, nightclubs, and slums where nobody cared what happened. Dreyon could be in any one of them, and…

Ellis darted over to the place where he took her for the hunt. This would be a good place to start.

And apparently, Ellis hit the jackpot. Even before she arrived, she could already smell the stench of blood and roasting bodies under the hot sun. Her foot splashed into something, and with a yelp, Ellis leapt back. She had stepped into a puddle of blood.

Ellis steadied herself. The nightclub looked much simpler in the day, where it was just a small concrete building. But there were ugly streaks of red and brown all over its walls, and birds were flocking over, splattering the roof with feces.

Here goes nothing. Ellis took a deep breath and walked into the nightclub.

It was a massacre. The barman was sprawled over a cabinet full of smashed alcohol bottles, his throat torn out. A few girls were dead, scattered all over the floor, their limbs twisted and eyes wide with fear. A middle-aged man was hunched over the bar. For a moment, Ellis thought he might be still alive, but the second she tapped him on the shoulder, he rolled over, revealing a bloody hole in his chest.

"Dreyon!" Ellis shouted. "Where are you?"

Nobody answered.

"Dreyon!" Ellis screamed. "Come right now, you fricking bastard! What do you think you're doing, huh?"

"Hunting," a growl came from behind the bar.

Despite everything, Ellis took a step back.

Dreyon stood up. He really looked like a vampire, his shirt and face stained with blood. His eyes were glowing, and he tossed a limp body behind him like trash. Honestly, it was like being in a horror movie. Except that they were both monsters.

"Dreyon…" Ellis sighed. "What… why… you know what? Let's get you home, all right? You need a break."

"I don't." Dreyon said. He turned back and picked up a corpse as if it weighed nothing, slamming it onto the bar with a sickening thud. He bent over and started drinking. Ellis shuddered as she heard the nasty sucking noise of blood draining from the corpse and into his system.

"Here." Ellis reached into her backpack and took out the photograph, placing it beside the corpse, where Dreyon could see. Then, she stood back.

Dreyon's hands froze. The corpse slithered to the ground, slapping back onto the tiled floor. Blood dripped down his chin, a drop splattering onto the photograph.

"Who is she?" Ellis asked quietly.

Dreyon swallowed. Weakly, he sank into a bar chair. Ellis sat down on the other side as well, so they were face to face.

"Who is she?" Ellis asked again.

"Alice." Dreyon sighed. "Alice Goldsburn."

"It's a beautiful name," Ellis said.

"It is," Dreyon said. Right now, he didn't seem so much like the monster he was, killing people left and right. He seemed more like a fallen warrior, wounded and mourning for someone he lost.

"What happened to her?" Ellis probed carefully.

Dreyon's fist clenched. For a moment, Ellis was poised to duck and run. Then, his fist relaxed. And when he spoke, his voice was still strong, but there was evidently sadness intertwined with the usual drawl.

"She died. There weren't any good doctors or medicine at the time. So she just died like that. And… do you know how hard it is to watch the person you love the most die in front of you, bit by bit and in so much pain? Do you know how hard it is to watch her die and not being able to do any freaking that at all?" Dreyon's voice ended in a shout.

"No," Ellis said.

Dreyon laughed bitterly. "Yeah, so now you know, huh? Like how those stupid soap operas go? The bad guy always has some deep dark secret that makes him the bad guy? Yeah, you got that deep dark secret. Happy now? Hope I got all your questions."

Well… no, he didn't get all of her questions, but Ellis wasn't going to risk asking more. And… in a way, Ellis couldn't be angry at him anymore. Losing someone like that… it probably changed Dreyon in such a way… Ellis wouldn't even try imagining his pain.

"Do you want a ride home?" Ellis asked.

Dreyon blinked in surprise. "What?"

"I mean, I have a nice car. I don't use it a lot, but it's there. And since we can't exactly have you walk around in broad daylight with blood all over the place, I thought I could give you a ride, you know. So that no one can see you like that and all…" Ellis finished lamely.

"That… that sounds great." Dreyon said.

Ellis smiled happily. "All right then. You wait here and try to clean up a bit. I'll get my care, and we'll head home."

With that, Ellis ran out of the nightclub. Yes, she knew that Dreyon could easily run home so quickly no one would even see his shadow. But the reason why she asked him to let her give him a ride was because… well… maybe Dreyon wasn't a monster after all. And Ellis would really like to meet the boy behind the monster's face.


	8. Seven

**VII**

And it was awkward. Well, it wasn't that bad, but the atmosphere in the car was a little tense. And of course, it couldn't be blamed. Driving the car was a neatly groomed Ellis, with perfect hair and posture, while a little scoundrel sat beside her on the shotgun seat, covered in blood and grime while slouching horribly.

As Ellis started the engine of her little cherry-red car, she considered starting a conversation. But in the end, she dismissed the thought quickly. The conversation would probably end in a lot of swearing, anger, and her lovely little car being smashed on the side of the road. Much safer to play a bit of music to ease the silence.

Ellis connected her phone to the car's speakers, tapping the shuffle button. Immediately, "Good Time" by Owl City and Carly Rae Jepsen floated from the speakers, so cheerful.

"Where's your home?" Ellis asked, as they headed out onto the road.

"Just keep going straight. It's near the edge of town, and you'll know it when you see it," Dreyon answered shortly.

"All right," Ellis said quietly.

There was another moment of silence.

"Can you change the music?" Dreyon said. "I don't like this song. It's so…"

"So…?" Ellis prompted.

"It's so… happy." Dreyon gritted out.

"Hm… I see." Ellis said. A smile began to form on her lips. "Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh, it's always a good time… Whoa-oh-oh-oh…"

Dreyon's fist clenched. A hand reached for her phone…

"Wait! I'm changing the song, I like my phone, so please don't kill it yet!" Ellis yelped, snatching the phone away and practically smashing the forward button in her haste. Ellis couldn't see him, but she was nearly a hundred percent sure that the brat had a smug little smile on his stinking face.

The rest of the ride proceeded in silence. And Ellis thanked the heavens that the rest of the songs were much less cheerful. After all, who could argue with the sadness and depression of Halsey's 'Control'?

Soon, they entered an impressively long driveway, and Ellis knew that she had entered the richer sector of the town. Every tree and bush, and every single freaking blade of grass was manicured to perfection. The paint on the night-black asphalt was so bright and clean it was like staring straight into a flashlight.

But nothing. Absolutely nothing could be compared to the mansion.

When Ellis was still at least a few hundred meters away, her jaw was already hitting the steering wheel in shock. Never in her wildest dreams and imaginations would she expect such luxury to ever exist in this world.

The mansion was modern, with a hint of Victorian or Gothic, and it rose up to four stories high. From her point of view, she could see a room on one side made completely of glass. Pillars supported suspended rooms, creating open hallways. An arch welcomed her into the spacey driveway, where a mermaid fountain spewed sparkling water. Ellis pulled up on one side near the neatly trimmed lawn.

"Come on," Dreyon said, getting out of the car. "Just leave your car here."

Numbly, Ellis followed him out. It still felt so surreal, like it was a dream, and she would wake up at any second.

The interior was equally as beautiful as the outside. A chandelier hung from a crystal ceiling; a winding staircase led to another section of the house that was most likely just as elegant, if not more. The floor was made of smooth marble, polished until Ellis could see her reflection on it. Inside, there was a small Japanese rock garden surrounded by the open hallways, and the gentle noise of trickling water and clinking seemed to be the only sounds in the mansion.

A neatly groomed man was standing before them. Like everything else, the man also looked like someone that had leapt out of a fairy tale book. He was incredibly tall and thin, wearing a neatly pressed tuxedo and crisp white gloves. His black hair was slicked back, and a surprisingly elegant French moustache was perched above his mouth.

However, his expression of horror killed the perfectness of it all.

"Young master!" the man gasped.

"Ellis, this is Richard, our butler." Dreyon said.

"Young master!" Richard said again, his voice distraught.

"What is it?" Dreyon growled.

Richard whirled from the room, reappearing with a mop and pail. Even from the distance, Ellis could smell the stinging scent of bleach.

"Young master, what have you done?" Richard said, his voice now filled with panic. "She is a Shadowlock!"

Dreyon paused. Then, his eyes widened.

"Shit!" Dreyon hissed.

"What is it?" Ellis demanded. Richard suddenly appeared in front of her and thrust the mop into her hands.

"You know his father's the leader of the Nightwalkers, right?" Richard said.

"Wh…" Ellis started.

"Yeah, my father's going to be home in any second. And I… I must have been… I should never have brought you here!" Dreyon growled. "I was too drunk to notice. With your stench all over the manor and road, my father's going to sniff you out and trust me, it isn't going to be pretty."

"You heard him," Richard agreed. He whirled back with something that looked like the world's largest perfume spray bottle. "Mop the places you've stepped on. Dreyon and I will clear the driveway."

With that, Richard and Dreyon pretty much flew out of the house, leaving Ellis standing there in the ridiculously big hall and holding a mop.

"Yeah, that's fun." Ellis said. For a moment, she felt like laughing. The giggles were bubbling up her throat. It was getting ridiculous. And she had no idea why.

Ellis held her breath. She tried to hold herself together. She really did. And in the end, she thought she did a good job. She mopped the entire hall before leaning the mop against the door and heading to the car. She started the engine and drove home, trusting that the bleach should cover her scent.

And when she stumbled home, she burst out laughing.

Then, it hit her. She suddenly knew why everything was so funny.

Dreyon took her to his home. Dreyon blamed himself for something that was probably her fault, since she was the one who offered to drive him. Dreyon cleaned up after her mess, and endangered himself to his father's wrath in order to keep her safe.

Because Dreyon, the cold, unfeeling, proud boy… actually cared.

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If he had to be absolutely, completely truthful, he would've admitted that he had cared. He didn't want Ellis to get killed because she had nicely offered to drive him home. However, despite being about a century and half years old, Dreyon was trapped in the body and mind of a teenager, so naturally, he's not very truthful.

He just doesn't want his father to find out he was hanging out with a Shadowlock vampire- their biggest rival- and not just that, he was basically saved by one. He just wants to save his own skin; it's not about Ellis at all. Really.

That was what he kept telling and convincing himself as he scrubbed the floors and sprayed bleach and set up air fresheners around the places Ellis had been to. But for some reasons, it just felt very, very wrong.

The sun was setting quickly. He would be back soon.

And just as the clock struck seven, Dreyon's sharp ears picked up the sound of a car entering the driveway, and the door's silent creak as Richard pushed it open to welcome home the leader of one of the two biggest rival vampire clans in America.

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Dinner was awkward, needless to say. As the butler places the main course in front of his father, Dreyon could hear him asking Richard about the strong smell of bleach in the hallways. Richard replied with a quick excuse of a wild animal doing its business in the hallways and running rampant, and surprisingly, he bought it. Dreyon relaxed.

However, the older man then turned to Dreyon after briefly thanking Richard for the meal, and asked him stiffly, "Where were you the past few nights, son?"

The last word sounded more intimidating than intimate, and Dreyon stiffened once more.

When he answered however, his voice was in his usual emotionless drawl. "Well, we had a huge Science project, and I'm paired up with Sam, so I spent a night over at his."

The air was tense, but Dreyon forced on his mask of indifference.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Sam. You know, like the guy I've been hanging out-," Dreyon waved a hand dismissively, "Oh, whatever. He's just my classmate, a human."

"I see." His father's reply was curt.

Dreyon nodded, then proceeded to take a sip of fresh blood from his cup to moisten his dry lips.

 _Sorry Sam_ , Dreyon inwardly apologized, _Wish I didn't get you into any trouble…_

Speaking of Sam… Dreyon's best friend hadn't seemed to have come to school recently. He forced himself to relax. Sam may be human, but he's strong. There's nothing to worry about.

Sam wouldn't hide anything from him.


	9. Eight

**VIII**

That night, it rained. The sound of water splattering against his window and the roof was deafening to Dreyon's sensitive ears, but it was also comforting. The steadiness and boldness of the raindrops had always relaxed him somehow, and now, hearing the autumn downpour, the tension from dinner drained away from his body, and he relaxed against the back of his chair.

Then he glanced down at his English paper and groaned. There are just things that even the rain couldn't make better.

He picked up his phone, and typed a quick text to Sam, asking him why he hadn't gone to school the past few days.

Dreyon's human friend replied almost immediately.

 _Hey dude. Sorry, there was family stuff. I'll be absent for some time, but no worries. I should get back soon. Don't go check my house though. I won't be there._

There was a short pause, then another message popped up.

 _And there won't be anyone there welcoming you either._

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With his English paper finished, Dreyon decided to study for the Biology quiz. He was already at school, eager to escape his hollow home and his father.

After the rain, the next morning was clean and bright, with a hint of a chill in the air. Winter would be coming soon.

He settled on a bench, pulling out his notes, and reading them over lazily, his mind not quite taking in all the words. Slightly annoyed, he slammed the notebook shut, just as he sensed a person approaching him. He sniffed discreetly, and a familiar smell filled his sense. He didn't need to turn around to know that it was Ellis, and that other Shadowlock vampire.

"Hey," he greeted, voice monotone and bored.

"Good morning," Ellis said neutrally. "So… I just wanted to ask about yesterday…"

"It's fine. No problem. I handled it." Dreyon slung his backpack over one shoulder and began walking away, not even bothering to spare a glance at the two girls.

Ellis watched his back until it disappeared inside the school building, then shook her head, sighing. Serena pursed her lips slightly, though she looked amused at the same time. "Boys are just really strange, you know?" the brown haired vampire said. Ellis couldn't help but agree.

Dreyon was a mystery she just couldn't solve.

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The final bell rang, and the class erupted into frantic packing, everyone eager to escape the boring History lecture. Dreyon, however, didn't bother, sliding his books neatly into his backpack, then adjusted the straps pressing his shoulders. He was one of the last people to exit.

It was a Thursday, so Dreyon couldn't really understand why everyone was so in a rush to leave.

Placing the books he didn't need back into his locker, Dreyon left the school campus, but didn't head home directly. He wasn't in the mood, and wanted to stay out for as long as possible.

After some pondering, he began to stroll towards the park. The streets were familiar, and it remained familiar even after he left the path towards his house. With a jolt, he suddenly remembered that this was where Ellis's home should be, somewhere around here…

"What are you doing here?" a voice demanded.

Dreyon spun around, and -lo and behold- there stood Ellis with her friend.

He shrugged, deciding to answer her question. "I was heading towards the closest park."

Serena (yes, that's what her name is!) glanced back and forth between the two of them, then cleared her throat tentatively. "Well, I'll be heading up first." She smiled shyly as Ellis glared lightly at her. "Have fun!"

There was a moment of silence as Serena entered the building, her feet padding on the tile floors as she climbed the stairs towards her apartment room.

"Awesome friend," Dreyon commented, just to break the awkward silence.

"Shut it."

"Someone's in a bad mood."

"Thanks to you."

Dreyon rolled his eyes and shrugged his backpack up his shoulder. "Well, whatever. I'll be going to the park now. See you tomorrow. Don't forget the Biology lab."

The last bit was quite unnecessary, so Ellis ignored it. "Why are you going to the park?"

"Because I want to."

"Oh."

The dark haired boy smirked and turned. After taking a few steps, he called back over his shoulder, "Are you just going to stand there? If you keep quiet, I don't mind a little company, you know. I'm not _that_ antisocial, if at all."

Ellis blinked, then hurried to follow him, not quite knowing why exactly she was doing what he wants her to do. "You sure? Every time I checked, you're alone, sulking in some dark corner…"

"I do _not_ sulk." Dreyon glared at her, but it wasn't as intense as some of the glares before. He turned away. "And also, I _do_ have friends."

"Let me guess, some other crazy, bloodthirsty vampire in your clan?"

Dreyon looked annoyed. "No. Sam is human. He was absent the past weeks, though. I haven't seen him for some time…" he trailed off.

"Did something happen?" Ellis asked, raising her eyebrows.

Her company shrugged. "No idea. I asked him, but it's just some family stuff. Sam's okay."

Ellis was mildly surprised. "You seem to put quite some faith in a human."

"Humans are useless unless for food," Dreyon announced, "but Sam is special. You'll understand when you meet him."

She nodded, smiling discreetly. It was nice to see that he wasn't completely heartless.

They have arrived at the park. Though it was noisy with the racket of children running around the swings and slides, it was also comforting with all the life in such a small place.

The two of them settled on a nearby bench. For a long time, there was just silence. However, it was a comfortable silence, the two of them merely enjoying each other's presence.

Then, Ellis spoke up. "When are you planning to go home?"

"When I feel like it," Dreyon answered emotionlessly, his eyes staring at a point in the horizon. The setting sun burned his face, and Ellis's skin prickled uncomfortably as well, but it melted his greenish brown eyes into such a beautiful shade of caramel and leaves that she didn't want to leave the annoying light. A breeze ruffled past, and Ellis caught a whiff of his familiar scent: metallic and salty, like blood, but beneath that was something comforting and strangely humane, like tea and autumn and fallen leaves. She leaned back, still gazing at him from the side of her vision.

Her sharp vampire vision picked up every single detail, the way he chewed the inside of his cheek as he pondered something she had no idea, the way his hair tangled easily in the cool wind. She saw how even though they should be relatively safe in a small neighborhood park, his muscles were still tense, and his nose twitched often, catching and analyzing every scent of their surroundings.

It was during one of those nosy precautions when he stiffened quite suddenly. His hand grabbed her wrist, and his voice was a hushed whisper as he asked frantically, "Do you have perfume or something? Something with a strong scent. Anything."

Ellis swallowed as the grip started to grow painful. "Um… Is hand sanitizer okay?"

Dreyon gestured for her to give it over, and she obliged, moving as quickly as she could, because whatever he had sensed, it's obviously not something he liked.

He took the bottle of hand sanitizer, and promptly squeezed one fourth of the bottle into his pale hand.

"What are you doing?!" Ellis yelped.

"Covering our scent," he answered easily, as if using up her precious bottle of hand sanitizer was completely unacceptable and she's not going to miss it or anything.

She continued to stare at him as he rubbed some of the sparkly gel onto his wrist, neck, and behind his ears, even smoothing some into his dark brown hair, making the strands stick up and sparkle in the dimming light. Then, he leaned forward, and began doing the same to Ellis.

She snatched her hand away. "Okay, seriously, what is happening?"

Dreyon grabbed her arm again. "There is a Nightwalker nearby. I could smell him. And he's not just any Nightwalker." He spread some of the cool perfume on her collarbone and around her neck. "He's my dad's assistant. If he finds us here, we're dead. Literally."

That shut her up real quick. Ellis dipped a finger into the hand sanitizer and rubbed it behind her ears.

"Won't he recognize us? Or you, at least?"

Dreyon shrugged as he rubbed his hands together with the last of the hand sanitizer he poured out. Another gust of wind blew Ellis's blonde hair around her face and into her eyes. She pushed it back impatiently, just as the scent hit her: the smell of pure blood and loyalty, and knew immediately that that was what Dreyon had scented.

"Dreyon," she breathed anxiously, daring to peek over her shoulder. She didn't catch anyone that had seemed to stand out, but again, vampires could usually fit in with humans just fine.

"He can't find us," the younger boy whispered. "You just go with the flow." And before Ellis could ask him what he was talking about, Dreyon tangled his hand- slick and sparkly from hand sanitizer- into her hair, and pulled her towards him. Their lips slammed together almost painfully.

For a moment, Ellis was stunned. Yes, she knew that this was part of an act, but still... Trying not to think, she leaned into the kiss, maybe a little too passionately, wrapping her arms around his neck as they began the roles of two love-struck teenagers with serious PDA problems.

"He's coming over," Dreyon murmured against her lips. "I think he's heading towards the forest."

"Cool," she whispered back. Her voice sounded tighter than usual. She let out a nervous giggle. "Keep up the act. I'm still young, I don't want to die yet."

"Young?" Dreyon's shoulders shook slightly with suppressed chuckled. "Yes, totally."

"Shut up."

Then they fell silent as a man in a pristine black suit passed them, shooting them a disdainful look. Ellis tensed, and so did Dreyon, and it was only after Ellis watched the assistant disappear in the forest did they relax and broke apart immediately.

"God," Ellis gasped. Her face felt like it was on fire. Her lips were smoldering… but not necessarily in the bad way. Quickly, she glanced away as some rather embarrassing images popped into her head.

Dreyon was the same, and he looked everywhere but at her, fiddling with his bangs a little bashfully. He cleared his throat uncertainly, and took a deep breath before standing up and saying, "Well, that was…"

"Intense," Ellis offered.

He bit his bottom lip, nodding absently. "Erm… so… I'll be heading home now. You should get back soon too. Um… Biology lab tomorrow. Right."

"Great," Ellis nodded, running a hand through her tangled hair and swallowing thickly. "Of course. Lab report due Tuesday."

"Yes. Thanks for the reminder. History essay." With that lame excuse, Dreyon practically flew out the park, leaving behind the strong scent of her peach-scented hand sanitizer.

After a long moment, Ellis stood as well, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and leaving the park.

Intense had been an extreme understatement.


	10. Nine

**IX**

The next day, it was all extremely awkward. Going to the same classes was almost painful. Every single time they even made eye contact from across the room, very inappropriate images of the previous night, and a bit more, would pop into Ellis's head, and she'd find herself fanning her burning face furiously.

"Something's wrong with you." Serena stated flatly after first period.

Of course, Ellis told Serena about the kiss. And of course, it made things worse. In addition to spending the next forty minutes with her face in a textbook to hide her blush, she had to endure Serena's muffled giggles. Once, she glanced up to see how Dreyon was faring, and to her satisfaction, he wasn't doing much better either. Two bright spots of red decorated his cheeks, and a blond boy who must have been Sam was chuckling way too loudly.

After school, Serena headed into her apartment, but as Ellis headed into hers, she had a surprise.

Dreyon was sprawled on the couch, somehow managing to look like a male model instead of a frat boy trying to look cool.

"Hey," Ellis said, placing her bag down on a chair. "What are you doing here?"

Dreyon shrugged casually. "Well, the last hunt didn't go so well. So I was wondering, do you want to go on another one?"

Ellis made a face. Then, she raised her eyebrows and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I have another idea."

She headed to the kitchen and got out a blood bag, tossing it to Dreyon. Instead of letting it splatter all over the floor, he actually caught it.

"I went on a hunt with you, so you go on a hunt with me," Ellis said. "My definition of hunting is a blood bag. So to be fair, you have to eat it."

"Ew…" Dreyon said sourly. For a moment, Ellis thought that he'd just chuck it out the window, call her a few names, and leave. But this time, Dreyon nicked it open and drank.

His eyes were closed as he chugged it down. Ellis watched as the amount of blood drained from the container, until it was nothing but a chunk of bloodstained plastic. The second it was done, Dreyon chucked it into the trash with so much force the bin skidded across the room and smashed into the wall before toppling over.

"This tastes like shit!" Dreyon announced, coughing and hacking into a tissue. "How do you… For nearly one hundred freaking years, you managed to eat this crap… how you survived…"

Ellis suddenly felt very self-conscious. "I know I said this a thousand times by now, but it's definitely better than sucking blood off some innocent little girls off the streets."

Dreyon heaved one last time into the poor tissue before throwing that away too. He stood up. "Tonight, I'm taking you out for a real hunt. I promise that I'm not going to screw up again like the last time. And I'm not taking no for an answer."

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Ten minutes later, they broke into the town's local jail, prowling along the barbed fences. Ellis had no idea why she agreed. But now that she was in, she was in. It was too late to get out.

They flung themselves over the tall fences and landed silently on their feet, sprinting towards the prison buildings, moving too fast for the cameras to catch them. Dreyon pried open a barred window and they slipped inside.

They were in a cell. Or more accurately, a small concrete box with a tiny cot tucked into a corner. A burly man lay there, his feet dangling off the mattress as he snored quietly. The neon orange jumpsuit seemed to glow in the darkness.

Dreyon placed his fingers on the man's neck and snapped it.

"You know that they're going to perform an autopsy on this dude, right?" Ellis said. "They'll notice that he miraculously snapped his neck with nothing and somehow managed to drain all of the blood in his body at the same time."

"You worry too much," Dreyon said dismissively. "I'll just edit the autopsy report tonight. No one has to know anything."

"All right, then." Ellis shrugged. She kept her face bored, impassive. But in reality, her stomach was churning with nervousness.

"Well," Dreyon gestured towards the lifeless body. "Eat it up while it's still warm."

Ellis folded her arms. Dreyon must have known that she was hesitating, but didn't comment on it.

"Fine," Ellis said at last. She headed over and picked up the body. She bit the neck. And drank.

Human blood, fresh from the vein, was like nothing she had ever tasted. Blood bags had a faint metallic or plastic taste to it. Animal blood was very thick, the taste and texture clinging to her tongue and mouth even hours after feeding. It was really more like eating onions and garlic, but with no breath mints to clean your breath afterwards. But human blood… human blood was just right. It was warm and rich, flowing down her throat like a mug of hot chocolate on a snowy evening. Warmth spread through her body, all the way to her toes. It left a pleasant aftertaste, which left her taste buds screaming for more.

She drank and drank. She simply couldn't stop. Once she was nearly bursting with fullness, she finally dropped the body down with a wet thud on the cement.

"Good?" Dreyon smirked as he started drinking.

"Good," Ellis agreed.

Dreyon finished the body off. "How many times did you drink human blood?"

Ellis smiled ruefully. "This is my first."

Dreyon's only seemed mildly surprised. "Your _first_?"

"Yeah, so what?" Ellis said defensively.

"But… you were born around… the 1600s, right? No way blood bags were invented at that time," Dreyon said, still stunned.

"I drank animal blood until I got access to blood bags." Ellis explained.

"Oh…" Dreyon nodded, but his surprised expression didn't fade.

There was a moment of silence.

"We should probably get back," Ellis said, simply to break the awkward silence. Dreyon hummed in agreement.

So together, they raced back.

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Dreyon accompanied her back to her apartment. They chatted a bit more there, until Dreyon had to get back home to get his homework done. Ellis was almost sad to see him go. It was very funny, how the two of them had hated each other with so much passion before. Now, they could almost be… they _were_ friends.

"Good night," Ellis said, as she stood at the doorway. "Thanks for the hunt. I really enjoyed it. Honest truth."

Dreyon smiled, genuinely for once. "Good night too."

Ellis began to close the door, but suddenly, Dreyon leaned forward and kissed her.

Their lips brushed gently, almost delicately together, full of care and concern instead of the rough and frantic one from the park. Ellis leaned forward as well, looping her arms around Dreyon's neck. His hands hesitated.

Much too soon, Dreyon stepped back. Ellis didn't get a chance to see his face as he strode way too quickly down the hall and into the elevator.

Ellis stood there for a bit longer, trying to reminisce what had just happened. She smiled fondly before heading back in.

She knew for sure now that they weren't just friends. They were universes more than that.

 **Please Review!**


	11. Ten

**X**

Honestly speaking, love was the strangest thing. The next morning, Ellis was in an extremely good mood for no apparent reason. The whole time she was walking to school with Serena, she was beaming. If Serena noticed anything, she didn't comment.

Butterflies stirred when she arrived at school, and saw Dreyon waiting by the door, his expression bored as usual. When he saw them, however, he quickly pushed off from the wall he was leaning onto and began strolling towards them.

Serena raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ellis. "Is he…?"

"I think so," Ellis breathed.

Dreyon didn't stop in front of her, but directly went forward to kiss her. This time, the kiss felt different. It wasn't as rushed or hasty, and it's even lovelier, nearly sweeping Ellis off her feet. The kiss was slow and taunting, something that suited Dreyon, and when they separated, her knees felt weak.

Serena stood off by one side, not seeming very awkward as a third wheel. She was smirking lightly, an expression that said, _'Why am I not surprised?'_

"Dude," an unfamiliar voice said behind Ellis. The three vampires spun around to face a tall, tanned boy with light blonde hair streaked with brown. His bright blue eyes twinkled mischievously as he addressed Dreyon. "I come back for what, two days, and you've got a girlfriend?"

Dreyon's friend then turned his attention to Ellis, looking her up and down, his eyebrows raised. "I didn't see you around last year. You new?"

Ellis nodded.

His smirk grew. "So Dreyon only knew you for about two months? He must've been really charming for you to fall for him that fast."

And now, Ellis just really wanted to punch the boy, because now that she thought back, Dreyon hadn't been very charming _at all_.

Her irritation and discomfort must have shone on her face, because the boy chuckled and extended a hand. "My name's Sam Collins. I was absent for the first few months because of family problems, so I'm guessing we haven't formally met yet. It's nice to meet you."

"Ellis Skye. Nice to meet you too." It took her entire will not to crush the boy's hand, but judging from his faint wince, her grip was still far too tight.

Dreyon rolled his eyes. "What is this, a business meeting? Let's go to first period." He took her hand and began dragging Ellis towards the school building, Serena and Sam in tow, past the whispering and gossiping students.

His touch sent tingles up her spine - a feeling she had never experienced - and Ellis beamed when she saw the small smile that graced his lips. She had never felt so happy.

There had never been a time more perfect than now.

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Time passed quickly. Winter had just fallen, and Ellis bundled up, even though her vampire body could not feel the cold. Dreyon waited every day for her in front of the school, and every time she saw him, she felt warmth spreading through her insides, and winter wind was no longer biting and fierce. With Dreyon, she felt like she drank hot chocolate mixed with fresh blood.

The day passed with a blurred mind and stolen kisses in the hallways. Serena and Sam stood by the side, the silent, supportive friends. Sam actually turned out to be pretty chill, a little happy-go-lucky, and always going with the flow. He was the most talkative one, and Ellis was often glad for him to fill in the silence shared between the other three. Dreyon barely changed; he was as sarcastic, sadistic, and strange as ever, but Ellis was beginning to understand enough of his little quirks and was able to peer through his mask.

When the bell rang, Ellis shot out from her final class and slammed her things into her locker, grabbing her scarf while she's at it. Dreyon was faster than her, and was already by the front door of the school, chatting with Sam. Ellis and Serena joined them, and the four of them began walking home.

Sam was the first to part ways, and Dreyon fell considerably quieter after he left. But then when Ellis and Serena were almost at their apartment building, he spoke suddenly, "Let's go to the park."

Serena blinked, and nodded in understanding. "See you later then, Ellis." Then she turned into the building and disappeared from sight.

"That's quite sudden," Ellis commented to Dreyon, frowning lightly.

The dark haired boy shrugged. "I just felt like it today."

Ellis hummed, and they continued their way towards the park. There, they sat, watching the few children brave the winter cold and run around the playground sets. The days were too short: the sun was already setting, and it was rapidly growing dark.

"We should be going back soon," Ellis murmured.

Dreyon didn't make a sound, but simply gripped her hand even tighter. "Yeah, we should," he finally mumbled. They stood, still clasping each other's hands and began to part ways.

Ellis gave him a gentle peck on his lips, and before she could pull away, he pressed against her, pulling her to his chest, his hands running up and down her back and spine before settling on her hips. Vampires didn't need air, and they could've continued this for the rest of eternity, and a small part of her _wanted_ that, but the other, more rational, realistic part of her forced her to slowly peel herself away.

For once, Dreyon was slower to react, and he moved sluggishly and reluctantly, his eyes never leaving hers. She gave him a small smile. "See you tomorrow, Dreyon."

"See you." And she watched him as he turned around first, took one step, before freezing.

For the first time, she noticed the sleek black car parked not far from the side. And the man leaning against it.

The man moved casually in his pristine suit, smoothly and gracefully despite his size; his dark hair was slicked back, his face sharp and pale and familiar.

"Dreyon." He addressed the boy. There was something in his voice that made Ellis shudder, something deep and resonating and filled with something she couldn't quite place but hated. With a jolt, Ellis realized who the man was.

"Father." Dreyon's voice was steady, but his throat bobbed, his hands shook slightly, and Ellis realized that for the first time in her life, she was seeing Dreyon truly and utterly terrified. Of his own father.

"And who might this be?" He gestured behind Dreyon at Ellis, who froze like a deer caught in headlights.

"Just a classmate." Dreyon's voice shook slightly.

The man raised a brow. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

Then, he smiled, and Ellis thought that it would've been a kind smile if she didn't see the pointed fangs glinting in the dim lighting. "Walk with me, Shadowlock."

"No." Ellis stared at Dreyon, who stood defiantly between her and his father. "She's not going anywhere with you."

"Whether or not she comes will not be decided by you."

"Nor you."

Something in the monster's eyes flashed, and he moved so quickly that Ellis didn't see him at all, the sound only reaching her ears after Dreyon had stumbled and fallen. The slap resonated in the air, fading quickly, and a welt began to swell on Dreyon's face.

But Dreyon's father was looking at Ellis. "Walk with me, Shadowlock," he repeated.

Ellis obeyed. She couldn't look at Dreyon as she passed him. He picked himself off, dusting off his jeans, ignoring the throbbing of his cheek.

"Wait a-"

"You come as well, boy." The man cut him off, and his tone was so filled with scorn and cold, cruel amusement that Ellis wanted to kill him, wanted to rip out his tongue and his throat and drain him dry. But she couldn't do anything. There was something deep inside her bones that knew that no matter how much older she might be, she could not win a fight against this monster who had gained the top seat in the clan of Nightwalkers. Pure horror dawned upon her as she finally realized what was happening. She was following this man, who was Dreyon's father, and was the king of the Nightwalkers. Her ultimate enemy. And she was following him like an obedient little lamb.

The drive towards the mansion was tense, to say the very least. Ellis couldn't look at Dreyon without feeling shame coursing through her veins, but she could feel Dreyon staring at her. His father drove in silence, and when they arrived at the mansion, Richard the butler's entire body went rigid at the sight of her as she stepped out of the car. She gave him a small smile that tried to look reassuring, but it turned out more like a grimace.

They entered the mansion in silence, Dreyon's father first, then Ellis, and Dreyon bringing up the rear. The living room was lavish as ever, delicately designed, but for some reason, it felt like a graveyard. And from Dreyon's expression, it might as well have been one.

 _What was happening?_ Ellis wondered slightly. _What is going to happen? How did this happen? Why?_

"Why?" To her surprise, Dreyon was the one who spoke first, voicing the question on her mind.

"It's very simple, son." The man settled himself comfortably down on a couch, picking up an empty teacup from the coffee table and tapping it once on the marble surface. "I want to know why you're getting so close with a Shadowlock. That is all."

 _Is it?_ Dreyon's expression asked, but he said, "We were merely talking. _That is all_."

"Perhaps." He didn't even regard Richard as the butler filled the teacup with warm blood, fragrant with freshness.

The room was silent, the only sounds being Richard's brisk footsteps and the click as the door closed. The leader of the Nightwalkers sipped at the blood, seemingly thoughtful, before he gestured suddenly at Ellis and commanded Dreyon, "Kill it."

Her throat constricted, and she glanced at the younger vampire to see his hands shaking violently.

"No," he forced out.

And then the teacup was soaring through the air, leaving a ribbon was crimson liquid as it arched – and shattered in front of Dreyon, splattering his shoes and jeans with blood.

"Kill it."

"No."

The monster was pacing towards him now, and she knew that for his father, killing Dreyon would be as easy as throwing that cup.

"Either you kill it, and make it quick if you want, or I'll chain you up and make you watch as I torture it to death."

In any other situation, Ellis would've felt extremely insulted from being called an 'it' all the time, but currently, she just wanted something to happen, anything, even if it's her death, just so the moment would end.

The monster continued, "You're not a child anymore, Dreyon. I expect you to be able to choose. Make the right choice. After all, how are you going to inherit the throne with a heart so soft you cannot bear to crush your enemies?"

There was a moment of silence. Then:

"If that is what is required to sit on a mere throne, I don't want it." The air in the room felt like it was freezing over. "I don't want an invisible throne or an artificial crown; I don't want a position gained through blood and hatred: it's not worth it. This," Dreyon gestured around him- at the comfortable couches and the elegant French windows and the beautiful chandelier, "is not worth it. I don't want it."

"Dreyon." Ellis finally managed to force a word out of her mouth. "Dreyon, please, don't do this…"

Dreyon turned and stared directly into her eyes, his murky green eyes clearer than she had ever seen it. "I don't want this. I quit."

And then he spun around and strode out the door, turning down the hallway.

For one second, Ellis remained frozen, before she quickly reacted and scurried after him. One last glance over her shoulder showed Dreyon's father bending over and picking up a piece of broken porcelain. There was no regret or sadness in that wicked smile - only amusement and mild anticipation. She had to resist the urge to throw up.

It was the first time she's been to Dreyon's room, and it surprised her with how… normal it looked. It was as messy as any other teenage boys': clothes and books strewn over the floor, an unmade bed…

Dreyon was already packing, throwing random articles of clothing and other necessities into a large suitcase.

"Dreyon, what are you doing?" She hated how weak her voice sounded.

"I'm leaving, obviously," Dreyon answered coldly.

"Dreyon, please don't-"

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted, throwing a T-shirt into the suitcase a little angrily. His voice then grew small, like a child's. "It doesn't matter whether I exist or not. It's all just a game to him. He doesn't actually care. He just wants something to manipulate easily. So I'm not going to let him do that. I'm leaving."

"To where?"

He shrugged. "To the Shadowlocks, probably. With you."

Her heart melted. "Why…?"

"Because," and then he smiled, a soft, sad smile that lingered, "some things are worth it. To me, _you_ are worth it."

"Am I?" she wondered quietly.

Dreyon leaned forward and took her hand, brushing his lips over her fingertips. "Yes. I won't lie to you, Ellis. You are worth more than anything to me. I won't lie to you. Not now, not ever."

She gripped his hand tight, not ever wanting to let go.

" _I promise."_


	12. Eleven

**XI**

So Dreyon moved in with her. Serena was overjoyed. Working together, they fashioned the living room into a bedroom, adding a sofa-bed and a decently-sized trunk for Dreyon's belongings. Once the heavy lifting was complete, they all settled around the dining table while Ellis dished out cocktails – a chocolate margarita for Serena, a Black Velvet for Dreyon, and a Pink Elephant for herself. Ellis was used to mixing blood into chocolate margaritas, and the Black Velvet didn't have any drastic changes with the blood added in, but Ellis did hesitate when she held the blood bag over her Pink Elephant. The delicate color seemed so innocent and sweet. In the end, she drank both drinks separately.

They spent the entire night like that, sipping at their food, chatting, laughing. Dreyon did hesitate when he caught scent of the packaged blood, but "at least the alcohol sort of covers it up". It wasn't until nearly midnight when they finally came to the topic of the tattoo.

Every clan had one. When Ellis first joined the Shadowlocks, they had taken her to Magnon, a warlock, for the tattoo, and she got it. It was really more or less there to show clan loyalty. If someone were to leave a clan, they just got the tattoo removed, and it would be very painful, but at least… well… they're free.

"We can get it removed tomorrow," Serena suggested.

"Sure," Dreyon said, shrugging.

Ellis nodded. Truthfully, she had never really seen someone get their tattoo removed before, but she did know where Magnon lived, and it took one quick ride downtown, and they're there. No biggie, really.

"All right," Serena cleared up the glasses, dropping them off in the sink. "We should get to bed right now. Good night?"

"Good night," Ellis agreed.

Serena left the apartment, heading back to her own. Wordlessly, Dreyon sat on the couch. Ellis disappeared into her room, changing into a nightdress, and peered out. "Hey, if you need anything, just yell, all right?"

Dreyon nodded. He looked very sad. Maybe he needed some time alone, to mull over the events of the day, Ellis had no idea. She went back to bed, turned off the lights, and allowed the house to plunge into darkness.

 **π** **ρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

The next morning, they ate a quick breakfast, taking the blood fresh out of the bag before leaving. Dreyon didn't complain, but watching him take every gulp was painful. Ellis wanted to sympathize, but if he was to join the Shadowlocks, he'd better get used to it fast.

They took the subway there, getting swept up among the people of the rush hour. They were still jostled and pushed around, but nobody tried to steal from them, and the people around them did give them a bit of space, eyes following them. Ellis ignored the stares. One vampire was enough to make people slow down, not to mention three. They must have looked like a group of low-key models taking a stroll.

The trip there was silent. Soon, they arrived at the opposite end of the city, making their way to a small street packed with cafes and souvenir kiosks. Most of the shops weren't opened yet, apart from a sleepy woman manning a coffee stand.

Ellis led the way deeper into the street, stopping at a small herb shop. It was immaculately clean, the windowsills and displays freshly polished. Ellis knocked.

After a moment, the door opened, revealing a young boy, about their age, very tall and skinny, with white-blond hair and curious silvery eyes.

"Hello," he said.

Ellis smiled. "Hey. We're here to get a Shadowlock tattoo. Is Magnon here?"

The boy nodded. "Come in. I'm Stone, Magnon's apprentice."

They entered the shop. The scent of fragrant herbs, medicine, and tea was everywhere, and the interior was warm and cozy. A small fire burned in the hearth, and there was a small couch and a coffee table near the center of the room. Tables and shelves filled with neatly arranged packages surrounded them.

Stone disappeared into the back room, reappearing with a tray of tea and chocolate chip scones.

"I'll get Magnon now," Stone said. "He's outside on his morning walk."

"Thanks," Serena said.

"No problem." Stone blushed, grabbed a hat and scarf, and vanished out the door. Chuckling, Ellis picked up a scone and took a bite. Her eyes widened in surprise. She thought she'd be choking down dry human scones, made of nothing but sugar and flour, but this one had blood in it, and in addition to that blood, it was literally the best scone she had ever tasted.

Right then, the door opened again, this time a tall, thin man with pale skin, thinning grey hair, and a thin, almost nonexistent moustache. Everything about him was very thin, and he would have been very frail and delicate if it weren't for the fact that you could clearly see the wiry muscle on his forearms, courtesy of his rolled-up sleeves, crossed with battered white scars.

"Magnon?" Ellis said.

Magnon frowned at them. Then, he snapped his fingers triumphantly. "Ellis Skye, I did your tattoo in 1806, and you came to visit me seven more times with your friend, Serena Shale, who had her tattoo done in 1889. And…" his grin faded slightly. "Dreyon Morgen, I did yours in 1831… What are you doing back here?"

"Nice to meet you too," Dreyon replied stiffly. With one smooth move, he pulled off his shirt and turned around. On his shoulder blade was a star, the symbol of the Nightwalkers. "Get it off."

Magnon stared at it. "And I suppose you'll want another one? A Shadowlock one, perhaps?"

"Yes."

The warlock sighed. "All right. You know I really hate doing this."

"Get it over with."

"So rude." Magnon turned to Stone, who was arranging the coats. "Please get me my kit."

"Right away!" Stone chirped, scampering back in ten seconds with a gigantic leather box. Magnon opened it up, revealing bottles of pale chemicals, a few battered old books, and something that looked like a tree branch filed into a sharp tip and coated in gold. Ellis and Serena moved back, getting off of the couch to give some room.

"This is going to hurt," Magnon warned. Dreyon shrugged, his shoulders flexing.

Magnon opened a jar of milky-colored liquid and a small brush. He dipped the brush in, and raised it. Immediately, the brush started to smoke, not from heat but from the frost that was quickly coating the bristles, and the temperature in the room dropped.

Magnon touched the brush to Dreyon's shoulder, and Dreyon screamed.

It was the most horrible sound Ellis had ever heard in her entire life. His spine arched in pain as he doubled over, his hands clawing at his back, his skin flushed, and only a fraction of the tattoo had been removed.

"Dreyon!" Ellis cried, lurching forward.

"Stay back," Magnon was pale, but firm. Gently, he helped Dreyon up. "This is going to hurt a lot more, but it would be really helpful if you didn't move. We can get it done faster."

Dreyon nodded tightly.

Magnon raised the brush again, sighing. "I didn't have to remove tattoos for at least a century."

It went on for another five minutes, but it seemed like five years. With each stroke, Ellis could see Dreyon's face contort, but he didn't make a sound, and he didn't move at all. Stone was shivering in a corner; Serena looked slightly green. Ellis's stomach was tearing itself to shreds.

Finally, it was done. Stone rushed forward with a piece of cool white cloth smelling of lilacs. Magnon placed it firmly on Dreyon's shoulder, where there was a faint sizzling sound. Dreyon sighed in relief, his entire body relaxing as the painkillers and whatnot did its job.

"Better?" Magnon asked.

"Much better," Dreyon croaked.

Magnon held the cloth on for a bit longer, before returning it to Stone. The patch of skin was now back to normal, toned and healthy, as if nothing had ever been there before.

"Now," Magnon said. "It's time for your Shadowlock tattoo. It's going to be painless compared to just now. Where would you like it?"

"Around my throat," Dreyon answered effortlessly. "I thought about it last night."

Magnon smiled. "All right."

Dreyon placed his shirt back on, and tilted his head back. Magnon picked up the branch, placing the golden tip against Dreyon's throat, and began to draw. Runes flowed from the tip, thick and black, forming Dreyon's story. Energy glowed around them as the magic controlled Magnon's actions, drawing from Dreyon's memories and emotions, and after another five minutes, it was over again.

Stone rushed out, carrying a mirror. Dreyon stared at his reflection.

"You look good," Ellis said.

"It looks like a noose," Dreyon said stiffly.

"Nah, it looks good," Magnon said, laughing as he packed his kit.

"Yes, it looks good," Dreyon agreed, laughing as well. "Thank you."

Magnon waved a hand easily. "No problem. Have a good day, you guys."

"You too!" Ellis said. "Bye guys!"

"Bye!" Stone called.

They left the shop, and something told Ellis that today was going to be a good day.


	13. Twelve

**XII**

Time had always passed quickly for an immortal, but after the sudden twists in their lives, it seemed to accelerate even more. Without even realizing it, winter was draining away, and spring was dawning. The second semester began, and it felt like a new start, this time, with Dreyon by her side, and nothing wrong in the world.

For three happy months, their peaceful lives remained undisturbed. Sam knew something was wrong the moment they had stepped onto the school grounds after Dreyon had his tattoo exchanged. He marveled at the addition around Dreyon's neck, but didn't strike up a fuss. Serena remained as sweet and supportive as ever, constantly by their sides, but always manage to find a perfect excuse to escape whenever she sensed that Dreyon and Ellis was about to get intimate.

And they got intimate often.

It was something more beastly than human, the way Dreyon was protective over her, and the way they yearned a bit _too much_ for notice. It had been awkward at first, and while it had gotten better, it still wasn't something Ellis was very comfortable with. The animalistic emotions emerged more commonly while they were alone, but with severe self control, they've managed to not go too far _yet_. Kissing, sure, hugging, of course; sharing a bed with thick blankets and nightclothes in between began to occur commonly enough as time flowed, but that was it. Ellis didn't know what she'd do if Dreyon dared step across that line of privacy and intimacy. She'd probably slap him.

Yes, slapping him sounds good. It wasn't much of a defense, but it had worked once before, when Dreyon was in a half-beastly daze, so it'd probably work again.

Spring brought in a tide of new emotions: joy, mostly. Ellis discovered that when a flower was held under his nose, Dreyon would begin to sneeze nonstop. It was something everyone found hilarious, with the exception of a certain vampire, of course.

Love also blossomed in spring, and it wasn't something foreign as it had been during the winters, but an emotion that was welcomed, and the season itself seemed to kindle and nurture that hearth of beautiful feelings so it could bloom.

It was a certain day during early spring when Dreyon decided to bring Ellis out on their first, actual date, with the fancy restaurants and everything.

Well, not exactly fancy: they went to the nearest Pizza Hut wearing hoodies, T-shirts, and jeans, then strolled to the cinema and watched a _Star Wars_ film.

It wasn't too bad though, in Ellis's opinion.

When they started home, it was past nine; the streetlamps were flickering with white or yellow light, noises were disappearing off the streets. A chilly night breeze blew, ruffling trees and bushes as it passed.

They didn't go home immediately. Instead, they decided to take advantage of the peace and strolled towards the park. There was a small buzz in Ellis's pocket, and she pulled out her phone to find a message from Serena.

 _Biology is stupid._

Ellis smiled and shook her head slightly, typing quickly.

 _I'll help you when we get back._

Serena replied immediately.

 _And when is that?_

 _I don't know. Probably soo-_

Something _snarled_.

It was common knowledge that Nightwalker vampires were mostly nocturnal: they hunted and acted at night, just as their names suggest. They also, like wolves, tend to travel around in groups or packs, very unlike the casual defense the Shadowlocks used as they roamed the daytime. It's what made the Nightwalkers dangerous: the perfection of their teamwork, their swiftness, their mercilessness and brutality.

Dreyon stumbled first, crying out in pain as a vampire – seemingly appearing out of nowhere – sank his into his shoulder and twisted his head, tearing the muscle. Blood sprayed, and Ellis froze immediately, shell-shocked.

If there was one Nightwalker here, there was bound to be more…

They emerged silently from the shadows, six in all, adding the one that had attacked them first.

Dreyon clutched his wound, baring his fangs and growling. Ellis's phone was still in her hand, and the screen was falling asleep, until her thumb moved discreetly and tapped above a name.

The vampires attacked when a phone number popped out on her screen.

Dreyon was moving immediately, his movements as smooth and graceful as his former clan mates. Ellis had seen him in a killing spree before, but that was against humans, and it had been an ugly, terrible thing; now, however, against vampires, though he was still a beast, he was a honorable lion.

Ellis clicked on the number, and the phone began to dial. She spun around, and right behind her was a vampire, about to lunge. But even if she wasn't as skilled in battling as the Nightwalkers, she was still a vampire, and she could still fight: her kick caught the vampire in the face, and his momentum injured him more than her foot. He fell, nursing a broken nose, but tried to attack again, and that was when Ellis began to run.

"Dreyon!" she shouted over her shoulder, and there was a roar of response behind her. She barged straight into the forest, and Dreyon was not far behind.

 _"Hello?"_

Ellis pressed the phone to her ear, shouting desperately, "We're under attack! We're in the forest! Come, help, right now!"

Without bothering to hang up, simply ignoring Serena's confused cries at the other end until her friend hung up herself, Ellis pushed herself to continue running, faster than she had ever ran in her entire life.

She could feel the Nightwalker vampires several paces behind, bloodthirsty and eager to bathe in the glory of killing a rival vampire.

Trees shot past, shadows blurred – Ellis had lost all senses of directions now; they could be running in circles for all she knew. She simply blindly followed Dreyon's dark silhouette in front of her, feeling her muscles strain and ache despite her lack of heartbeat and unneeded breaths. The vampires chased relentlessly, and Ellis could sense Dreyon hesitating, wondering if he should let them chase until they drop down dead, or stop and fight.

The decision turned out to be the latter.

Both of them halted at the same time, and the vampires began to catch up; Dreyon dropped smoothly into a fighting stance, discreetly stretching his torn shoulder, which had already began to heal.

The vampires stopped as well, feral grins on their faces.

"Finally decided to stop running?" one of them – probably the leader, called out tauntingly.

But before Dreyon could retort, something streaked past them so fast Ellis didn't even notice it until a split second later, when the vampire that had spoken was screaming in agony and a beast had its teeth clamped around its throat. With a horrible snap, the vampire's head rolled, and the creature unhinged its jaw, crimson dripping from its canine teeth, letting the vampire's headless body slump to the floor before slowly disintegrating.

It was a wolf.

Ellis had seen plenty of wolves before, but never one as large as this. When standing on its two hind legs, it was easily twice as tall as her, and even when it was on its four legs, the top of its head brushed her chin. But despite its terrifying size, dripping maw, and vicious expression, it was beautiful. Its fur was silver dusted with gold, and silky in the dim moonlight, and its eyes were the most brilliant blue she had ever seen; it moved with such a grace that it made a slaughter look beautiful, and that's what it did: it killed and scattered the screeching, frantic vampires until the mild breeze was kicking dust into their eyes and the last of the screaming had faded.

And then the wolf turned to them.

Dreyon stiffened immediately, and Ellis took a nervous step back, feeling her phone vibrating in her pocket but too afraid to answer it. The wolf stared at them, nose twitching as it sniffed the air around them, but the dust got to it, and – adorably enough – it sneezed.

Ellis would have burst out laughing right there and then if a familiar voice calling her name hadn't made her freeze.

 _"ELLIS?! ELLIS, WHERE-"_ It was Serena.

"HERE!" Ellis shouted back, then cleared her throat nervously when the wolf growled quietly at her for the racket she was making.

There was loud crashing through the trees and bushes, Serena obviously trying to make herself be known. When the brunette emerged from the trees into the clearing and spotted Ellis with Dreyon, she was overjoyed… until she saw the wolf. Then, just like the rest of them, she froze, gulping nervously.

The wolf sniffed at her curiously, no longer as mean-looking, but still intimidating with its size. It looked up at Serena's terrified expression, then glanced at Dreyon and Ellis, who were just as nervous.

And then, it _laughed_.

At first, it sound more like barking, rough and deep and powerful, but slowly, it began to change.

Ellis had heard rumors before, but she had never thought she would see it with her very own eyes.

She watched as paws became hands and feet, fur receded to reveal bare skin, fangs shrank and flattened, and then it was a human laughing in front of them, his body shaking with giggles, his golden brown hair silvery and messy in the moonlight.

"Oh… my God…" Sam Collins, Dreyon's best friend and confidante, gasped between bouts of laughter. "Your… faces…"

Ellis had never realized what a bright blue Sam's eyes were, and when he grinned at them, his expression was wolfish. He made a little firework sound, his hands creating a mini explosion as he smirked at their shocked faces.

 _"Surprise."_

 **π** **ρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

Vampires weren't supposed to breed. It just didn't work that way. Things go wrong when the dead try to make something alive, but sometimes, the mistake turns into a masterpiece.

In her short half a century of life, she had joined the Nightwalkers, left, joined the Shadowlocks, and left again, the only reasons being that they wanted her.

Her mother was human. Her father was a vampire. When she was born, she aged like any other human child, until she stopped at the age of nineteen. She hadn't changed since.

With immortality, came thirst.

It made her hunt, it made her do desperate things, and the Nightwalkers, with their sweet web of lies and seduction, lured her into their trap and they fed her the blood of a Shadowlock.

It had been a young, frightened girl, begging and weeping, but when Rose bit down, felt dead blood and stale taste enter her mouth, she stopped moving.

And as Rose continued to drink, she realized that the blood gradually turned warmer, redder, sweeter, until it had the same taste of human blood. When the girl was nearly dead, Rose had let her go, and she felt beneath her fingers, the lightest of pulses of heartbeats.

 **π** **ρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

"Her bite turns vampires into humans. We think it might be something in her saliva." Dreyon and Ellis listened attentively to Sam explain while he checked the former's shoulder and passed them clean clothes and gestured at the bathroom. "When the Nightwalkers found out, they wanted her. Naturally, the Shadowlocks, being the righteous-" Sam paused, coughing lightly and glancing at Dreyon, Ellis, and Serena nervously, "I mean, since they're rivals, they're hunting for her too. Us, the werewolf clans, want to take her in, mostly for the sake of stopping a gigantic vampire clan war that might tear the country apart."

"You want us to help you," Ellis realized.

Sam nodded slowly. "That's… yeah."

"Clan wars aren't pretty," Dreyon said, nearly growling, "but the clans don't actually care other than the fact that they are disagreeing and they want their way to be done."

"So they decide to be kindergarteners and solve everything in the ugliest way possible," Sam concluded. "That's why we need your help; and please don't be as stupid as your superiors."

"We're not," Dreyon had a proud lilt in his voice, and he held his head high, nearly sneering at his friend. Ellis frowned at him. "Give us the information, and we'll join the hunt."

"But first," Sam cleared his throat, "please go shower. Blood all over you isn't going to help you convince Rose to come with us."

Dreyon slammed the bathroom door in his face.


	14. Thirteen

**XIII**

After Dreyon's shower, they got ready. Ellis, Serena, and Dreyon quickly packed some supplies, while Sam, who was already prepared, waited for them. Ellis stuffed two extra shirts and one thin pair of yoga pants into her backpack, along with a few packets of blood sealed carefully in a little box, for snacks and emergencies. She also got an umbrella, her kindle, her phone, and after a moment of hesitation, a teeny tiny bottle of whiskey which she kept with the blood. When she was done, she waited with Sam for Dreyon and Serena.

Once they were all ready, they headed out.

"Where are we going?" Serena asked.

"To… Magnon, that's his name, right?" Sam said. "The guy who does your ink?"

"Yep," Ellis confirmed.

"Well, Rose has been part of many clans, so she's probably visited him quite a few times. She might have told him some information or asked for some advice… I'm sure he'll know something." Sam said.

It made sense. They headed down into the subway station, which was nearly deserted, hopping quickly onto the train. For the first time in forever, Ellis finally got a seat on the plastic chairs built into the walls.

The trip was very quick and uneventful, but filled with chatter and conversations. Dreyon was livid that he had absolutely no idea that his best friend was a werewolf, and Serena was very interested in how a werewolf worked. They spent the entire ride drilling Sam about werewolf-y habits, routines, and even some questions that made Sam splutter and leap to the other side of carriage. Ellis was slightly proud that she was the one who asked that one question.

When they arrived, they were breathless with laughter, stumbling down the streets like drunks, but once Magnon's shop came into view, they sobered up quickly.

Ellis knocked on the door, and after a moment, it opened to reveal a slightly sleepy Stone.

"Hey," Stone said, leading them inside. "How are you guys? Here to see Magnon?"

The interior was exactly the same as the last time they visited – with its random assortment of trinkets and toys. They took a seat on the couch, squeezing together. Stone snapped his fingers, and six teacups appeared before them, filled to the brim with fragrant Darjeeling tea. After another snap, a massive plate of tiny tarts appeared, some of them filled with blood jam, and a few with regular strawberry.

"Nice!" Ellis exclaimed.

Stone grinned with pride. "Took me a long time, but I got it."

Ellis reached for a tart immediately, along with Dreyon and Serena. However, Sam picked one up and sniffed it carefully before taking a bite, because "Right now, the worst thing that can happen is me taking a bite of your blood stuff."

Stone vanished into the back room to fetch Magnon, who came out and greeted them warmly before taking a seat. The six of them huddled around the coffee table, a little cramped, but still very cozy.

Ellis finished off her tart. "Magnon, we're really sorry about coming here so late and all, but we kind of need your help."

"Who doesn't?" Magnon said, but not unkindly.

"Have you ever heard of someone called Rose?" Sam asked.

Magnon stiffened.

"She's in danger," Sam said immediately. "We need to find her, to get her to a safer place, because the vampire clans are hunting her down. She has the power to…"

"I know," Magnon said, his voice hard. "I know who she is."

"Great!" Sam said. "So you understand why she is…"

"I know," Magnon snapped. "I won't help you."

Silence settled over the group. Sam's face was frozen in shock, and Stone's face was frozen in a wince. Dreyon's and Serena's expressions weren't much better, and Ellis could only imagine how hideous she must look right now.

"Why not?" Serena said, her sweet little voice cutting through the silence.

"Don't get me wrong," Magnon's face softened. "Ellis and Serena, you are both very good girls, very kind and strong, but please understand that I can't simply give away Rose's location whenever I want to. I trust you, but not enough for me to tell you a secret as big as this."

Ellis nodded in understanding. She was close to Magnon, but not that close. Despite everything, she did have to stamp down a little twinge of hurt.

"Please," Sam said. "You might not trust us enough, but the lives of thousands of people are in danger, and… well… we can't just sit down here and do nothing!"

"Magnon," Dreyon said. Everyone stilled, glancing at him. "Magnon, I'm a Nightwalker. I was a Nightwalker, and I know my father. I know the clan. You think you know us, but in reality, you have no idea. They see Rose as a weapon, and if that weapon is ever used, it could literally wipe out every vampire in the world. I know that you don't care about us, but when all of us end up slaughtered around you, you're going to have to sit down and deal with the guilt that you could have stopped it, but you didn't, for all eternity."

The silence that followed was painful. Dreyon's face was a cold mask, and darkness seemed to radiate from him in waves. Magnon's face was frigid, which was no surprise, since Dreyon who was a thousand years younger had just scolded him, but there was no anger in his eyes. There was just a whole lot of sadness.

"I've seen a lot of people – people filled with personalities bright enough to challenge the sun, and people with so little emotion they're no better than the vegetables we eat – but nobody could quite match you," Magnon said at last. He took out a pen and scribbled something on a sheet of paper, handing it to Ellis. Ellis glanced down quickly, seeing an address, and quickly stuffed it into her pocket.

"Rose has a guardian – my niece, Aafje." Magnon said. "Show her the note, and she'll know what to do."

"Thank you," Ellis managed. "Magnon, I'm so sorry, I…"

Magnon held up a hand. "Go now, and don't bother me again."

Everyone quickly moved out of the shop, but Ellis hesitated. It was literally like a physical blow, of Magnon banishing them from his home. Yes, they might have gotten the address for Rose, but at the same time… the cost of Magnon's friendship might not have been worth it at all.

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	15. Fourteen

**XIV**

It turned out that Rose lived in the outskirts of the city, so her house wasn't very far away. It was a wonder that she hasn't been found out y-

"It's empty," Serena commented.

"Completely abandoned," Sam added.

Ellis frowned, studying the note in her hand, where the address was written on, and then looked up and around their surroundings. They were in the right place though. The house in front of them seemed undisturbed, the white walls clean, the windows wiped, and the small garden was immaculate. Was it possible that Rose and Aafje moved recently and hadn't told Magnon yet?

Dreyon was the only one seemingly unperturbed by the cold lack of life in the house. He strode up the front porch, not hesitating to grasp the handle of the door and yank it open.

Everything inside was covered in a thin layer of dust, indicating that the people they were looking for had gone for a while, though definitely not for long. Nothing seemed out of place: there were no signs of struggle or sudden escape. The dishes were washed and dried, stacked neatly in the cupboard; most of the foods were still edible; the beds were made, and the potted plants by the windowsill drooped only slightly. There were also no signs of where Rose and Aafje might have gone until-

"Hey, guys!" Serena called from one of the bedrooms. "I found- OW!"

The other two vampires and a werewolf rushed into the room to find Serena standing next to the bed, clutching her hand. The blankets had been peeled back, by Serena, most likely, and a small slip of paper was casually perched on the bedsheet.

"Are you okay?" asked Ellis.

"It burned me." Serena frowned confusedly at the slip of paper. "I picked it up and it _burned_ me."

Ellis pulled her away as Dreyon reached for the paper, but he hissed the moment it came in contact, and drew away quickly.

"Maybe it's warded against vampires?" Sam suggested, placing a hand on Dreyon's shoulder and gently pushing him aside to pick up the paper. He held up the slip of paper, and didn't seem affected by it. "Aafje is a witch, isn't she? Since both vampire clans are chasing after them, it'd only be logical that vampires shouldn't be able to read the note. A werewolf or warlock, on the other hand…"

"It's a letter to Magnon. Aafje says that they suspect that the vampire clans have gotten a clue of where they are. She gives an address as well, which is probably where they've gone off to next," the werewolf informed them. He tried showing it to his three friends, but all they could see was a blank piece of paper. "So, you literally can't read it. That's pretty smart. Pretty advanced magic, too." And then he suddenly fell silent, the four creatures' enhanced senses picking up movement outside.

Dreyon sniffed, and snarled softly. "Nightwalkers."

"What?" Ellis glanced, wide-eyed, out the window, where a few black-clad men were heading up the porch towards the unlocked front door. The brilliant light outside made their faces seem pitch black with shadow, but there was no doubt that they were certainly not friends.

"Run," hissed Sam, and the four of them bolted, tearing open the room's window and jumping out, then disappearing into the forest behind the house. The last one to go – Dreyon – quickly slid the window shut as well before hurrying after his friends. When they were a safe distance away, Sam held up the slip of paper again. "I think this is where they are now. Good news is: I know this place. Let's go."

 **π** **ρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

Vampires hated fire. It was instinct, passed down by their night-dwelling ancestors thousands to millions of years ago. Times may have changed, and creatures evolved, but many vampires still chose to roam the night, and beasts were still beasts.

So the moment the little group smelled smoke and smoldering coals, the three vampires halted in their path, instinctively drawing away.

But the single werewolf in the group was persistent, and he very nearly dragged his friends after him towards their destination.

Which also happened to be the source of the fire.

Sam sucked in a nervous breath, squinting through the smoke that had yet to disperse. Most of the house has been burned down, the roof almost completely gone; the windows were shattered, and inside was an assembly of broken furniture that had been torn and ripped in a vicious yet useless struggle before being charred and burned to ashes.

The four teenagers circled to the front, footsteps light, barely breathing. Dreyon sniffed once, and gagged when the smell of smoke filled his senses, but underneath the overwhelming smell was the scent of-

"Nightwalkers."

The police and the fire department should have been there an hour ago, to stop the damage and rescue the civilians, but of course, the Nightwalkers would make sure the pesky human police would be there well after the deed was done.

They burst out into the run, arriving at the front porch, where the smell of death, reeking and strong and fresh, smacked them in the face. The body of a young woman was sprawled on the front porch, her black hair singed, her dark brown eyes empty but wide with terror and pain. Her caramel colored skin had been drained into an ugly yellowish brown, and though her throat has been ripped out, no blood was pooled around her. Drained and maimed.

"Is that-?" Ellis choked.

"Aafje." Dreyon confirmed, his hand gripping tight around Ellis's. "She smells like a witch."

Serena glanced nervously into the house, as if it might suddenly burst into flames again. "But then where is Rose?"

The other three shrugged.

"Rose isn't inside," Sam reported after a quick tour into the house.

"We buried Aafje at the back," Ellis told him. "We'll have to inform Magnon about this."

"Rose's smell is mingled with the Nightwalkers," observed Dreyon. "It disappears near the street, so they most likely got onto a car, which means…"

"The Nightwalkers got her," Ellis finished. "How though? We just saw them at the other house!"

"They might've sent some people to every possible location Rose might be," Dreyon said. "Knowing my father, that'd be what they've done."

"And one of the missiles struck home," Ellis realized. Then, she paused. "No pun intended."

"What do we do now?" Serena wondered.

"We don't have much of a choice, do we," Sam said grimly. "We go after Rose."

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	16. Fifteen

**XV**

The Nightwalkers' base was very similar to Dreyon's home: extravagant, reeking of money, and ominously looming over them even as they hid in the cover of the thin trees around the thirty story building.

"She's here then," Sam grimaced.

"Probably." Dreyon glared at the building. "This is the main base. She'll probably be held in the basement."

"Of course," the werewolf was unimpressed. "It's always in the basement. Now the only way we could dig there is through the main entrance – no doubt heavily guarded, or we dig a tunnel to the basement, which essentially, is impossible."

"But I thought you are a werewolf?" Serena gave him a puzzled look. "Aren't wolves in the same family as dogs?"

"Sure," Sam's reply sounded casual enough, but his teeth were clenched. "But a dog is not a mole."

"Guys, we're getting off topic," Ellis spoke, genuinely tired. "How are we going to save Rose?"

For a moment, it was silent.

"We need a plan," Ellis reminded the others.

Sam was the one who spoke. "I say we… storm in, grab Rose, and get out. Beat up anyone who gets in our way." Then he spread his hands, palms facing up, as if their mission's success was being laid out before them.

"I like that." _Dreyon!_ "It's simple, easy to remember. Let's do it."

"Absolutely not!"

"That's going to get us all killed." At least Serena understood. Ellis didn't know what she would do if Serena didn't.

"Then do you have a better idea?"

Ellis paused. "Well… no. Not really." But she blamed it on her lack of knowledge about the Nightwalkers.

"Exactly."

 **π** **ρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

"This is going to get us killed," Serena repeated for the seventh time in the past five minutes.

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're a vampire. Vampires don't die so easily, since they're already kind of dead."

"But you're not a vampire."

"And thank you so much for pointing that out."

"This is going to get you killed," Serena declared, while Sam grumbled.

But the light chatter between the four friends died off before the front gate of the Nightwalkers' base appeared behind the trees. Maybe it was the nervousness that was finally catching up to them as they realized what they were going to do – storm one of the most powerful vampire clans and expect to come out alive – or it was simply the overall atmosphere of the Nightwalkers. The building itself gave off a foreboding vibe that made Sam shudder and suppress a growl, and even Dreyon was tense when they finally peeked from behind thick tree trunks to find the entrance firmly guarded by four alert vampires.

"Kill anyone in our way," Dreyon reminded.

Ellis decided to add, "Vampires may be difficult to kill, but it's not impossible."

"Leave it to us."

Ellis had not agreed to that, but Dreyon was already preparing to launch into full attack mode, and since she would have to do the same sooner or later… why not sooner?

A Dreyon with kill before him moved faster than wind, and Ellis struggled to keep up with the blow of slaughter as blood tore from slit throats and gouged-out hearts, three down and silent before she even arrived, and the last one was saved for her. She ended it quickly – a quick snap of an immortal spine, and then there was a growling ball of fur shooting past her, Sam bursting through the doors in his wolf form and tearing a path towards the nearest flight of stairs. Serena gave her a strained smile as she passed Ellis, and that smile twisted into a grimace when she drove her hand between the ribs of a lunging vampire and blood sprayed.

Stairs were despicable in battle, but only when you're moving upwards. Advancing downhill was much easier, and Ellis found themselves in the basement sooner than she had expected, eyes glazing over vicious faces and snarling lips that either closed in silence or split screaming as they passed. Getting Rose out was going to be difficult at best, but now wasn't the time to worry about the long term.

"One more level!" Dreyon called, and they hurried on, crashing through the wall before they've reached the actual bottom of the stairs so they could catch the Nightwalkers by surprise. It partly worked, and it also helped that several were crushed by debris, but blood was in the air and it was getting difficult trying to sniff out Rose's scent while battling away at the same time-

"Follow Sam!" The werewolf had giving a loud bark, and was already disappearing down one corridor, slipping through the throngs of vampires and tripping their feet. Dreyon, Serena, and Ellis had to do things the hard way, and by the time they've dripped a trail of blood behind Sam, he had already gnawed through a locked, iron door.

All it took was a single kick from Dreyon for the door to go flying from its hinges, and a voice in the room screamed.

"Sam, take Rose!" Ellis found herself calling before she realized that she was speaking. "We'll clear the path for you!" There was a lot of mowing down to do, but they'll leave the sweeping and mopping to the Nightwalkers.

Rose was a bone thin girl with too pale skin – even on vampire terms – and too black hair and eyes. Those waves of black were chopped short to her shoulders, the ends ugly and uneven, and a small, pinched mouth split open in another terrified, confused scream as Sam half transformed back into a human, grabbed her by the waist, and tossed her onto his back.

"Hold on!" he shouted, the last word morphing into a lupine growl as Ellis and Dreyon left crippled and dead in their wakes, leaving Serena to dispatch of anyone who had sneaked past the first two death-bringers.

Rose grabbed the long tawny hair sprouting from Sam's back, yelping between every stride when they hit the ground and everything bounces once before flying past again.

Now they were going uphill, and it was awful, like trying to climb up a waterfall. Dreyon roared when a stray vampire tore into his side, and out of desperation and fear, Serena crushed the vampire's skull against the side of the stairs. It felt like they've either slaughtered or incapacitated more people that the building could fit, but even more came snarling in. Sam was climbing on bodies.

Open space was like a sudden rush of air into empty lungs, until the crowds came charging and it was just blood and screams, flesh between fingers and teeth and carrion that had only just started to rot.

But despite the uncoordinated way the Nightwalkers attacked, they were not in any means stupid. It came with a rush and a snap, and out of nowhere, a net snatched away two bodies from the end of the trail.

Rose screamed in fright, but Sam roared in pain, the smell of burning flesh permeating quickly through the main lobby – a net dusted with silver.

"SAM!" Ellis and Serena shouted in unison.

"NO!" Dreyon was furious, but-

"GO!" The word was warped and mutated coming from a beast's throat and wolf's maw, but they understood and-

"No!" Dreyon was stubborn. "SAM!" But then Ellis was grabbing the back of his neck and leading him forcefully towards the doors.

"Keep moving forward!" she shouted to the creature she somehow adored before but realized the reason and loved even more now. "Come back later!"

The trees were filled with snarling monsters, but it didn't matter to the three vampires who tore through miles after kilometers. Guilt tore at her heart, but she didn't stop, just kept on pushing, each step of their immortal speed taking them away from the horrors as they slammed straight into a random vehicle, and were zipping down the street before any Nightwalkers were able to come chasing after them.

Ellis was at the wheel and she drove with no destination in mind. Her hands were shaking, staining the wheel with blood. The light grey seat covers were already ruined beyond repair, and as the hours wore on, she could feel the gore on her face tightening like a mask. Sure enough, Dreyon was already picking blood from beneath his fingers.

She was thankful enough that they had the mind to stop in a little town near their city, mostly to park the car deep into the woods and rip off the bloodstains before wrapping the evidence in stones and tossing it onto a creek. After that came the quick robbery of clothes and a quick shower.

When they were finally in the safety of her apartment, the three survivors found themselves staring through the window at the road, the park, the trees, the buildings, the sky, and Serena started it, but Ellis found herself weeping imaginary tears, and Dreyon let loose a roar that shook the earth and vowed vengeance to the thing he used to believe, but took everything away from him.

Rose was tangled in a net with Sam.

And Sam was a werewolf trapped in the middle of a sea of bloodthirsty vampires with silver gnawing through him.

And they wondered how it will all end.

 **π** **ρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

Serena decided to stay with Ellis that night, and Ellis was generous enough to give her the bed. She grabbed a few extra blankets and spread it out beside Dreyon on the couch. He did offer her the sofa, but she politely rejected his offer.

Once the beds were arranged, Ellis took out some blood. She was hungry, but she could still feel the gore staining her skin, and suddenly, her food seemed sickening, disgusting, and utterly detestable. Shuddering, she threw open her liquor cabinet, and grabbed everything. She poured something from nearly every bottle into a jug, watching the colors blend before dumping three packets of blood into the mess. She reached for three delicate cocktail glasses… but changed her mind and went for the gigantic beer mugs instead. As she handed out the monstrous mixture to Dreyon and Serena, her eyes were watering from the sheer amount of alcohol reeking from the drink, but she needed that. They all needed that.

"For Sam," Dreyon croaked.

"For Sam," Ellis and Serena echoed.

They drank. It was like fire, scorching down her throat and into her blood. She had never quite drunk anything as strong as that in her life, but the blissful numbness that followed was wonderful. Serena choked, and even Dreyon made a face, but they all kept it down.

"For Rose, too," Serena added.

By the end, they had each drunk at least three mugs, and when they stumbled off to sleep, Ellis had to admit that she had never slept so soundly in her entire life.

 **π** **ρωί** **ως** **το** **βράδυ**

The next morning, Ellis woke refreshed. The taste of wine was still in her mouth and her stolen clothes were reeking with the scent, but everything around her was clear, crisp, and sharp. She didn't feel like puking or using the bathroom, which was good.

And, rather unsurprisingly, everything that happened the previous day seemed… muted. She was still sad and mourning over the inevitable death of Sam, but it wasn't like the previous night, where the misery was overwhelming. It was more like a gaping wound that was slowly healing… which made her feel even guiltier. Perhaps the main reason was because she didn't know Sam as well, not as well as Dreyon.

Ellis shook her head. Her clothes were really stinking, and she really should grab a quick set of clothes before having a good scrub. She cracked open her bedroom door, careful to be extra quiet not to wake Serena…

And Ellis screamed.

The drinks they had ingested the previous night came rushing back, and she buckled over, puking into her trash can, the blood and alcohol burning and bubbling in her throat as she vomited it all out. A moment later, she felt hands patting her shoulder and brushing her hair back as she finished off, heaving with sobs. She also heard Dreyon cursing under his breath, and it took her at least five more minutes before she was able to brace herself to look again.

Serena was staked on the wall, an ash stake, one of the only things that could kill a vampire through her heart. And just to make things exceptionally clear, her head was severed from her throat, her hair tied around another stake above her corpse. The assailants hadn't bothered to be neat, and gore were splashed everywhere, drenching the room in blood. But most of all was her expression. Serena's face was froze in an expression of terror, bright eyes wide with fear, and her mouth was forced open, and sticking almost ridiculously from it was a roll of crisp white paper.

Ellis forced herself to walk forward, hating how her bare feet squished on a tiny carpet. She forced herself to walk up to Serena, remove the paper, now bloodstained from her mouth, before closing her eyes.

Her best friend, who had been through the ups and downs, the highs and lows, who had walked with her for decades and centuries… gone. Like that. In one blink of an eye, gone.

A delicate drop brought Ellis away from her thoughts as a teardrop landed on the note in her hands. She opened it up, fingers trembling.

 _This is only fair._

 _The war has begun._

 _-the Wolves._

* * *

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	17. Sixteen

**XVI**

 ** _Eleven years prior_**

It began, like many other things, with a death. One death was like one snowflake in a blizzard, quiet, unassuming, but builds up into something so much more; one death was the flutter of a butterfly's wings in the middle of an ocean, casting ripples wide and far across the world. The only difference in every death was how long the ripples take to travel through the sea.

Remus Gray did not consider himself an accomplished man. He would more likely call himself a victim of many tragedies.

It began when he was turned. His family's townhouse stood several miles from the closest civilization, farmland steadily stretching out far and wide behind and around the lonely house before being abruptly cut off by a dark forest with ominously looming trees. He had, as a young curious boy just stepping into the rebellious stage of adolescence, had gone exploring she his parents were looking elsewhere.

He entered the forest, and never emerged again.

The forest floor was padded with pine needles and rotting leaves. Feeble golden rays of sunlight tore through the thick canopy to illuminate patches of dark green and brown. There was no obvious path through the trees, so seldom a human ventured under the gloomy cover of the immensely tall trees. Remus shuddered, half from the damp coldness that soaked into his skin, and partly due to the unnerving feeling of being watched.

That was when his footsteps reached a patch of wet mud and dirt, uncovered by the green foliage, and he noticed something that was neither leaves or twigs, and nearly gave him a heart attack.

It was a footprint, or, more specifically, a paw print.

A great big, circular palm, with three smaller ovals tipped with triangular marks of claws around one end of the circle to form an echo of a monstrosity whose one paw was larger than two of his hands put together, fingers splayed wide.

Then, from not far to his left, there was a snarl interlaced with a growl, he looked up to fid gleaming yellow eyes staring unblinkingly at him, and then the crouch, the tensing, the pounce, the screaming, and the darkness.

 **π** **ρωίωςτοβράδυ**

He didn't know what brought John Collins to the pack, but he was already there before him. They were around the same age, and Remus' first memory of the other young boy was his first turning. The moon was beautiful that night, but it was difficult to enjoy a night of full brightness under the excruciating and ripping pain of a forced transformation and savageness.

He did not remember screaming, only the sensation of air scraping against his throat and ripping past his lips. His ears felt closed and blocked and stuffed with cotton, his own heartbeat pounding against his eardrums. But beneath the rhythmic, desperate pounding, was a steady voice that whispered unimaginable comforts until that voice was marred by growls and tightened with the same pain of transformation.

The first time was the worst, and probably the most memorable. It doesn't get any easier, but one gets used to the pain. Or, at least, that's what John told him; that's what John forced him to believe. When Remus regained his human consciousness, they became fast friends. And for Remus, not just friends: John became a life line – he would have committed suicide otherwise.

Although, sometimes he felt like he should have done that instead.

 **π** **ρωίωςτοβράδυ**

Civilization was a sweet breath of salty air pleasantly polluted by unnatural smells. Remus reveled that day he brought the pack – _his_ pack now, he kept reminding himself – out of the forest into a wonderful, beautiful city that didn't just survive: it _lived_.

Many others were more wary and cautious, John being one of them. But his friend had seen the open joy on his face and gave him a bright, supportive smile, encouraging this advancement, this step forward, despite his own reluctance, for their beloved pack.

He smiled for him, and hugged a little boy closer to his side, hiding the golden-brown hair – so similar to his own – under one broad hand. Shy, but bright blue eyes peeked up at Remus, who smiled down at him and asked, "Do you know where we are, Sam?"

"No, Uncle Remus," came the timid reply. "Daddy didn't tell me."

"This," Remus spread his arms wide, "is a city. And this is our new home."

No more hiding in caves and hunting whatever they could find.

No more looking human and acting wolf.

 _Nomore…_

 **π** **ρωίωςτοβράδυ**

Civilization was a sweet, fragrant flower that hid poisonous thorns under its beautiful petals.

Remus had picked the flower and pricked his fingers, but had forgotten about the poison.

Until he found the body.

Golden skin bleached sallow white, blue eyes vacant and lifeless; no sign of his murderer except a long, ugly gash that tore open his throat. But there was no blood, save for a trail of dried black trickling from the corner of white lips that no longer breathed or spoke. Drained.

And there was something else too: a smell, alien, invading. Reeking of-

"Daddy!" The boy was too young, but old enough to understand and remember.

John Collins was killed by a vampire, Sam Collins was orphaned at the age of six, and Remus thought that if only he had died and never became the leader of the pack and never allowed them _beasts_ to venture out the forest into a city, his friend would not have been killed.

But what was done was done, and all he could do was swear over a corpse to keep his child safe.

 **π** **ρωίωςτοβράδυ**

Remus was most displeased when he discovered that Sam's new friends were vampires, but the boy's feverish and passionate protests finally convinced him to turn a blind eye.

"Thank you." Sam looked visibly relieved. "Thank you, Uncle Remus," he repeated. "For everything."

So much for protection.

A year later, Sam stopped coming home. Remus sniffed high and low, and found the scent of his friend's son around the Nightwalker vampires' base. And according to the vampire they've captured and tortured, the werewolf had followed a group of Shadowlock vampires into the lair, attempting a fool's rescue of another vampire who was _somehow_ more precious than his own life, was captured while his 'friends' escaped, and had already been executed after being extensively tortured. His remains were burned and scattered in the forest, and to say that Remus was furious was an understatement.

He was _livid_.

But Remus knew to remain calm, especially in wrath.

The vampire was screaming as he forced the ash spike though skin and muscle to pierce her unmoving heart, but their intense little liquor party had prevented her companions from waking, barely stirring even when she screamed their names over and over again as dead, black blood seeped from her wound, spraying messily around the room whenever the ash spike shifted, and she was weeping as she died.

And he decided to ignore her desperate cries for _"Sam, where is Sam? Please-!"_ because a vampire was a vampire, and they were the poison hidden in the thorn.

 **π** **ρωίωςτοβράδυ**

Ellis and Dreyon were alone. There was no one left with them, and it was just the two of them, with dead bodies and ashes haunting over them. But they knew about the wolves, they knew who they were, and they knew where they were.

And so they went.

Following a fading trail of wilderness scent, they arrived at a large estate home just outside the forest. It looked like any other vacation home, with its white painted walls and blue tiled roof. There was a swing on the porch, and quite a lot of potted plants and flowers on the balconies and windowsills. However, all the curtains were drawn shut, and the overall vibe of the house was lifeless and empty.

But the scent of the murderer did not, and they continued on to knock.

No one answered, but there was the faint vibration of a warning growl laced in the air. The door was unlocked, but the moment they stepped in, Ellis found herself choking up as she took a deep, unnecessary breath, and inhaled Sam's familiar scent. Dreyon's hold on her hand tightened, and she glanced up to find his face as impassive as always, but jaw clenched far too tightly.

"Vampires." A voice trembled through the house, quiet but cold. A man appeared on the top of the spiraling staircase that led down facing the front door, and strode down. He was thin and wiry, with sleek grey hair and dressed casually in a button-down shirt and trousers, but the expression on his face promised no kindness. Seeing them, his eyes glowed a deep golden yellow, and she felt Dreyon tense behind her.

The man smiled, but not kindly as he spread his arms slightly. "What could truly bring you to my humble home?"

"You killed our friend," Ellis said. She clenched her fists. "You _murdered_ her."

"That's only fair." This time, there was a growl laced in his tone, deep and vicious. "You killed my nephew."

"We did not kill Sam," Dreyon spoke. "He was killed by the Nightwalkers-"

"I don't care!" The man's composure cracked, and he roared. Dreyon and Ellis immediately took a step back, briefly stunned. "I don't give a shit about your covens and feuds, but your kind killed my nephew! That's enough for us to declare war on you, and we will!"

This time, his statement was echoed with approval. Ellis glanced around her, and saw more people – no, wolves in human skin – peering from the shadows, eyes glowing with anger.

The man pointed a finger at them, almost contemptuously. "Get rid of them."

The wolves pounced, sprinting across the room at an incredible rate, and they did not show mercy whatsoever. Ellis felt a pair of claws rake down her shoulder, and despite herself, she cried out in pain.

"Wait!" Dreyon yelled, his voice clear across the din of the chamber. "Sam was our friend!"

The hands scrabbling for her paused as everyone turned to see what the man, now clearly the leader of the pack, would do.

"He was," the man said. All of the rage and grief seemed to drain from his voice, replaced with only sadness. "He spoke very highly of you, Dreyon and Ellis."

Ellis felt another pang of guilt rack through her stomach.

The man straightened. "I'm Remus Gray, the alpha of this pack. And only because of Sam's friendship, I will be willing to give you a second chance."

"Thank you," Dreyon whispered.

Remus laughed bitterly. "Don't thank me. Less than a mile away is a forest, our forest. There is an amulet there, which a member of the pack is hiding as I speak. You must find that amulet while being hunted by my entire pack, even the elderly and the youth, and if they catch you, they can and they will kill you. However, you must not harm a single hair on their heads, or I will make sure you die painfully, amulet or none. Only when you return here with your prize to me, I will withdraw my declaration of war and spare your lives. Do you understand?"

Ellis was grateful enough that the enormity and impossibility of the situation hadn't quite crashed down on her just yet, because she managed to nod and mumble some coherent thanks. Then she added, "Do we get a head start?"

Remus grinned, baring his jagged fangs. "No."


	18. Seventeen

**XVII**

And oh they ran. Ellis ran like she had never run before, tearing out of the mansion as the wolves burst behind her, nearly shredding through the door as they shifted in mid-leap. She risked a glance back, and nearly pissed herself. Drooling jaws snapped at her ankles, and that was enough motivation to seriously just sprint.

"There!" Dreyon shouted. Ellis glanced up, and she barely had enough time to take a good look before they were suddenly thrust from houses into trees and whipping branches. They didn't have the time to duck and dodge the trees and brambles. Even though their skin and wounds healed very quickly, her jeans were quickly shredded below the knees from the undergrowth and her arms were scratched by the twigs.

Something bowled right into her, and Ellis shrieked as a mouth filled with fangs snapped inches from her face. Screw that Remus Gray, she was not going to be killed because of a no-touchy rule! Growling, Ellis hurled the wolf off of her and continued to run, but she was grateful that it landed relatively safely in a bundle of moss rather than a tangle of brambles.

Either way, the situation was not good. The wolves clearly knew their way around the forest, and there were probably many more waiting for them among the trees. Ellis laughed, and suddenly felt as though they were like two desperate little mice being tossed around by a few hundred very malicious cats, scurrying a few inches before being tugged back into torment.

They skidded to a stop, barely managing to avoid a literal army of wolves creeping before them – a hide of mottled fur and gleaming fangs in one formidable line. Behind them, the wolves stopped, and Ellis could hear their ragged breathing and smell the sour stench of their breaths. Every single eye glowed with delight, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that they were absolutely screwed.

"Well, this sucks," Ellis said, panting. "I guess we'll have to fight, huh?"

Dreyon nodded grimly.

When the wolves leapt, they roared back. It was painful, having to pull punches, making sure that each blow wouldn't break but bruise; that each lash would only stun but not kill. They suffered as well, clothes shredded by teeth and claws, with streaks of red flowing from wounds before their weary body knitted itself together.

A wolf sprang in front of her, but before she could do anything, it ripped right into her stomach. Her shriek could probably be heard for miles, and for one stupid moment, she imagined a flock of birds flying from the trees, all cartoon-style, but that was quickly broken when something long, tube-like, and slimy fell against her hand. Nobody wanted to feel their own intestines. And it was really sick.

Dreyon roared, and threw the wolf off of her, helping her up with his good hand. The other arm was twisted and bloody, and Ellis would have been really concerned if it weren't for the fact that she was trying to hold her innards in with a bloody hand and flaps of tattered skin.

But slowly, sluggishly, they waded through the carnage and in one final burst fled deeper into the woods.

"Dreyon," Ellis croaked. "We need to rest."

They stopped in a little clearing shrouded with thick bushes, staggering onto the floor and heaving for breath. Fortunately, Dreyon was actually pretty good, with slashes down his legs and back, though his worst injury was a broken arm, crushed by a wolf, and Ellis was just really glad that dog didn't take off the entire thing. Dreyon wriggled his arm around, setting it correctly and waiting for it to heal. Ellis was a little more battered, but mostly from that gaping hole in her stomach. She peeled the half-healed skin back a little and leaned forward, making sure that all her organs were arranged properly before patting the skin back into place and again, waiting for it all to stitch itself back together.

"You know," Dreyon grinned. His face was drenched in his own blood, and his teeth were stained with it as well. He looked like something out of a horror movie… well, to be fair, she did too. "It'd be really cool if we suddenly found the amulet right here or something."

"I know, right?" Ellis agreed full-heartedly. "That'd be really neat. And Dreyon, your butt's glowing."

"What?" Dreyon looked baffled.

"Get up!" Ellis crawled over, careful to watch her stomach, and started pawing at the earth Dreyon had just vacated, and in moments, there was the amulet, glowing a faint yellow among the dirt. Someone must have buried it there, hoping that the mud would have stifled the glow, but the two of them must have kicked up enough dirt to unearth the amulet, and… well… Dreyon sat on it after that.

"Lady Luck, we thank you," Dreyon sighed.

Ellis grabbed the amulet, and dropped it with a barely-stifled shriek. Her hand was burned, the skin scorched and curling.

"Are you all right?" He asked immediately.

"We can't touch the stupid amulet," Ellis growled. She was just so pissed. Of course, leave it to a werewolf to trick them and give them an amulet a vampire couldn't touch. And there's that obviously airheaded stereotype that vampires were the sneaky ones…?

Dreyon tore off a sleeve from his shredded shirt. "Maybe we can wrap it up, so we could carry it to a certain extent, all the way to the mansion at least…"

"That won't work."

Both of them stood straight up, crouching down and hooking their fingers into claws. The undergrowth parted, revealing a rather pretty girl with golden brown hair and lightly toned skin, but those glowing golden eyes clearly meant that she was a werewolf.

"I'd advise you to leave right now," Dreyon snarled. "Because we are two very pissed off vampires, and we're getting sick of Gray's no-injury rule."

The girl smiled, but it was tense. "I'm Maia Carlton, Sam's friend."

Dreyon didn't look convinced. "What's his favorite ice-cream flavor?"

Maia looked surprised for a moment, but then rolled her eyes. "Rocky Road with caramel sauce."

"What's his favorite video game-?"

"Look, can we deal with this later?" Maia said impatiently. "The amulet can only be carried by a werewolf. And I know Sam, OK? And he's told me about you guys, and I'm certain that Sam would want you guys to succeed in this stupid quest and live, not to be gutted by his… wolf friends."

"So…?" Ellis said.

Maia strode over and scooped up the amulet. "Come on, then, let's get back to the mansion."

"Um… OK."

 **π** **ρωίωςτοβράδυ**

They left some pretty bloody footprints on the front stairs and the carpet. Ellis actually made sure that she squished her feet around too, so the stains would be a real pain to scrub out. From her quick peek at Dreyon, he was doing the same, even leaving a few bloody smears on the wall with his ruined hands.

And yes, Remus Gray was absolutely livid. He was at the stairs, literally quaking with suppressed rage, and milliseconds away from exploding into his wolf form and tearing them apart. Even if he did, Ellis would have no complaints. She'd have a marvelous time ripping him apart, even if she was being torn to shreds at the same time.

Maia tossed the amulet at his feet.

"We're done with the deal," Dreyon said coldly. "Now, you're going to call off your declaration of war and let us go free."

Gray trembled even harder, and for a moment there, Ellis really thought he was going to explode. But all of a sudden, he stilled, exhaling slowly, and opened his eyes. His face was back to a very civilized, cultured expression, but the fury in those eyes was enough to make her glance away.

"No," Gray smiled, but not kindly. "You've cheated." He turned to Maia, whose face was similarly devoid of emotions. "Maia Carlton, you are a disgrace."

Maia's face remained very stoic, but her lower lip did wobble a fraction.

"You are a shame to our pack, a traitor to your family for doing the most dishonorable thing a wolf could possibly do." Gray spat out every word with a sort of savage relish. "And for all of this, I sentence you to exile."

Ellis released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She felt really bad that Maia was suffering, because in those short moments of interaction, she did seem like a very kind, caring, and brave person… but at least exile was far better than death.

Maia nodded slowly. "I accept the charges."

Gray turned from her. "Leave us now, and you may never returned."

Maia nodded again. "Certainly. But whatever you say, sir, you have to admit that what I did was what Sam would have wanted us all to do."

"Leave!" Gray barked.

Without another word, Maia left.

Gray turned back to them, and it was clear his composure cracked a little. "Now, to deal with you two. In a way, you did fulfill your side of the bargain, even though you had forced one of our own to do it for you. So I will let you go free. But I will declare war on the Shadowlocks."

"The Shadowlocks?" Ellis burst out. "Not all vampires?"

"No," Grey's smile widened slightly. "See, the moment I saw you walk in there with that amulet, I had sent a messenger to the Nightwalkers. We now have an alliance, to attack your family, the Shadowlocks, and we will not hesitate to slaughter each and every one of you to avenge for our fallen brother."

"You-" Ellis's hand shot up, ready to slap, but Dreyon caught her wrist, shaking his head. Angrily, she brought her hand back, clenching it into a fist by her side, but even Dreyon couldn't stop her from spitting a globule of blood and saliva into Gray's face.

"I hope you burn," Ellis hissed.

With that, she whirled around and stormed out of the mansion with Dreyon beside her, her head high and shoulders squared, and refusing to let them see the tears streaming down her bloody face as a sign of weakness.


	19. Eighteen

**XVIII**

Ellis and Dreyon should've been executed. They'd have deserved it, not like Sam or Serena, who did not deserve the deaths they were forced to endure when everything was Ellis and Dreyon's fault.

Their first destination was home, where they showered down the grime and blood, dressed themselves in more presentable items, and, hand in hand with heavy hearts, left – for the last time.

It took them thirty minutes to arrive at the Shadowlock's base.

Unlike the flashy Nightwalkers, building their own empire, the Shadowlocks were much more discreet, although not by much. Two teenagers in jeans and hoodies looked out of place in a five-star restaurant, and they were stopped immediately by a tall pale man in a black tuxedo.

"We have a reservation," Ellis spoke, but could sense that the man was staring past her at a bristling dark-haired vampire. "Ellis Skye."

The man tore his eyes away and focused on the list in his hand. He flipped one page, then another, and then finally, he smiled, revealing pointed teeth. "Ah, Ms. Skye. Yes, of course; this way please, if you don't mind."

Ellis and Dreyon followed the man- no, the vampire – through the dimly lit restaurant, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet underfoot and covered by the soft violin-and-piano duet in the background. Dreyon received unabashed stares as he strolled behind Ellis, as the other… _'customers'_ knew that he wasn't _exactly_ one of them. They were given a little round table in a corner, the wood covered by a white tablecloth and a tall glass vase holding a fresh rose placed daintily in the middle.

A minute later, a waitress approached them, painted lips fixed in a smile that made her stunning beauty seem a bit artificial. "Here are your menus," she spoke, and they caught the barest glint of fangs behind the curved lips.

"Thank you." Ellis received the leather-bound books, but placed them on the table and not sparing them another glance. "Is it possible for you to show us where the restrooms are?"

The waitress gave them an owlish blink. "The toilets?"

"No, the restrooms," Ellis insisted.

"There's no difference-," Dreyon tried to point out.

"Of course." The waitress tilted her head to the side, eyes still wide and ignoring Dreyon. "Business?"

Ellis nodded seriously, as if they weren't openly talking about doing their businesses in a fancy restaurant. "Urgent business."

"Very well." Suddenly, the waitress's demeanor became very brisk, and she straightened with a curt nod. "Please, come this way."

Ellis stood, Dreyon not far behind her, and they followed the waitress.

"Ellis." Dreyon took several large, quick steps to walk side by side with the blonde, blatantly ignoring the bright-eyed stares that tracked his every footstep. "I thought we were supposed to be meeting with the Shadowlock authorities? Why are we being shown the way to the bathroom?"

"The _restroom_ ," Ellis corrected.

"They're the same thing."

"No, they aren't."

"Yes, they are."

"No, Dreyon." His girlfriend gave him a _look_ , eyebrows high and unimpressed, "They are _not_." There was something final about her tone that convinced Dreyon to stop arguing and fall back a step behind her.

They were led into a hallway with the glowing bathroom signs overhead pointing the ladies in one direction and the gentlemen in the other, but they went past that through a pair of solid wooden doors that swung silently and smoothly shut, trapping them in cool darkness. Fingers brushed against wallpaper, searching, and there was an audible click as the waitress flicked a switch, and one yellow light bulb glowed fervently, lighting up a short hall with a small metal door at the end.

They approached it, and the waitress pulled a chain of keys from a hidden pocket inside her jacket, selected one, and unlocked the door that was then locked again behind them.

Behind the metal door was a complete change of scenery. The walls were brushed with clean white paint, tiles clicked beneath their heels, and white lights overhead cast a sharp glow onto their porcelain complexions.

They passed one hall and twisted into another, also lined with doors. The seamless silence of the place was almost terrifying, their footsteps sounding loud and intruding. When they turned one more time and the waitress knocked briskly on the first door to their right, they felt like they were interrupting something peaceful and holy.

"Come in," a pleasant voice called. The waitress held open the door, and Dreyon and Ellis entered a small, simple office with a typical office desk and spinning chair, along with a small sofa before a large, furry rug.

Ellis had met the head of the Shadowlock clan only once – the day she was recruited – and in the two hundred years, the vampire had not changed. His hair was auburn, short enough but not cut close to his scalp, and his eyes were a mesmerizing shade of citrine. Elegantly dressed in an immaculate, dark blue suit, top hat discarded on the edge of the desk, he had the air of an English gentleman, but when he spoke, there was the lilting accent of one whose tongue flowed with a language that was both Latin and Slavic yet neither at the same time.

"Ah, Melina," Shadowlock's head greeted the waitress first, who curtsied daintily. "Ms. Skye, and Mr.…" his easygoing smile faltered but he continued in the same casual tone of voice, "and Mr.… I don't recall. Are you new?"

"I was a Nightwalker." And of course, Dreyon chose the worst possible thing to say to the Shadowlock leader.

"But I suppose you no longer are?"

"No, of course not." Ellis stepped in before Dreyon could say anything else stupid. "And there is a reason why he is with us now."

Citrine eyes stared at her long and hard, before the vampire leaned back on his chair and gave her a small smile. "Enlighten me, please."

So she did.

Ellis did most of the talking, Dreyon stepping in for short intervals to fill in some gaps, and they laid out the entire story: their meeting, the Nightwalkers, Serena and Sam, and the werewolves.

The Shadowlock remained silent and unmoved during the entire time, Melina standing stiffly by the door, completely stoic save for the occasional frowns at parts of their story.

When Ellis began to trail off and finally closed with a lame ending and a shrug, their main audience was sitting with both feet propped up on his desk, a familiar gold-topped cane laying horizontally across is lap as he fingered the wolf's head carved into the lustrous metal, and there was a stretch of silence that persisted until Melina shifted behind them and called out softly, "Mr. Petrescu-"

"Hush, Melina," Petrescu ordered, finally returning his full attention onto Ellis and barely acknowledging Dreyon. "So you're telling me that we're now at war with both the Nightwalkers and the werewolves because of… you."

Ellis flinched, but it really wasn't far from the truth. "I- yes…" So she gave in, and Dreyon just gave an unhappy little huff beside her.

Interestingly, however, Petrescu did not seem perturbed. In fact, a smile curled his pale lips and he said, "I am amused."

Ellis blinked. "Pardon me, sir?"

"I am very amused," her Head repeated, standing up with the wolf's head gripped in his hand and the protected end of the cane tapping against the ground. "You are an interesting specimen, Ellis Skye. You intrigue me very much."

"Stop speaking to her like she's some kind of animal," interrupted Dreyon.

"Oh, but isn't that what she is?" Petrescu spun around, heavy wooden cane pointing at the dark-haired vampire, the end bare inches from the tip of Dreyon's nose. "Isn't that what we all are? Animals and beasts." He paused, pondering. "I see. We are now stranded in a war we can't possibly win. What a stupid move; yes, what a stupid decision."

"Well, I'm sorry," Ellis apologized, vaguely insulted. They weren't trying to stir up an otherworldly war either.

"No, no, I wasn't talking about you." Now Petrescu was just being confusing. "You see, Miss Skye, you and you're… _lover_ are not the only ones who make mistakes. Quite recently, just last month, in fact, I had invited Mr. Morgen – your father, I see now – to a meeting in hopes of forging better relations with the Nightwalkers." He winced. "Not my best memory, and now… yes, a ridiculously foolish move on my part."

"What…" Dreyon barely began his question before everything seemingly clicked in his mind. "You did not…"

Petrescu had the nerve to look sheepish, although Ellis still wasn't too sure what for. "I'm afraid I did."

"You are an idiot."

"I'm old!"

"That's barely an excuse-"

"What?" Ellis demanded. "What's happened?"

"Well, Miss Skye…" It seemed to pain Petrescu extremely to admit this but, "I'm afraid that due to the meeting last month, the Nightwalkers now know the location of the Shadowlock base."

And that was when the screaming began.

 **π** **ρωίωςτοβράδυ**

Miss Theresa Blair was born in the year 1797, and was turned 1824. She joined the Shadowlocks in 1835, and moved to America in 1971. Theresa considered herself a luxurious woman: where she lacked in life she made up with money. Years of experience made her skilled in business, and despite being a woman, she was highly regarded by all who knew her, even in the 19th century.

It turned out that joining the Shadowlocks was one of the best decisions she had made, because after spending the better part of two hundred years in the peaceful vampire community, it had never failed to please her with its freedom and respect for each and every one of its members, the only obligation for those who call themselves Shadowlock vampires being the protection of its bases and reputation.

Another thing that struck her pleasantly was its elegance of discreetness. From what she knew, the creator and head of the Shadowlock clan was a Romanian or Moldovan man named Costin Petrescu, and although she did not know the area, people, or culture of his origin very well, she was impressed with his style, for where the Shadowlocks lacked the viciousness of the Nightwalkers, they made it up by their sophistication.

The English base she used to visit often was a tailor's shop that has grown in popularity and expanded rapidly to accommodate up to sixty customers at once. Another in Germany that she had peeked into was a bar, but not the rowdy kind. It was the type of place for a quiet drink and dance, with soft music and a dreamy atmosphere. In France, she dropped by a spa, and in Italy, a simple yet elegant café. Then she had arrived in America, and was introduced to a splendid restaurant where it was impossible to reserve a table unless you were a Shadowlock.

All in all, Theresa was very satisfied with the Shadowlocks, and if possible, she planned on spending at least another two hundred years in the clan.

Currently, she was content on simply sipping on a glass of dark red blood, fresh and sweet, as her friend and fellow vampire Austin Drache relayed his story about a vampire he met in Germany who got so drunk in a bar that he had tried to eat himself. It was an amusing story, a bit morbid, but very entertaining either way, despite it being the fourth time she had heard it.

Theresa knew she fit into the image of the fancy restaurant perfectly, from her caramel hair, tightly wound up her head into an elaborate bun, to her pointed heels, the dark red leather polished and gleaming. She was wearing a wine coloured gown today, the fine cloth hugging her torso and hips before fanning out and draping around her legs, longer in the back so the skirt billowed behind her when she walked. It was one of her favourites, she had to admit, so she was careful with the blood. It'd be awful if she spilled a drop onto the garment and the smell lingered for a year afterwards. That was the only problem with blood: the smell was impossible to get rid of, never mind the stains.

"But Ms. Blair, you _have_ visited Germany, haven't you?" Drache's German accent was thick but not unpleasant.

"As a matter of fact, I have." She lowered her cup but kept it perched on her palm, the stem between her middle and forefinger, resting her wrist on the edge of the table as she swirled the thick substance inside. "Several times, actually. The Cathedral of Cologne never failed to impress me, though it was a pity we can't enter it."

Although this was no longer true, vampires still refused to enter churches. It used to be that they _couldn't_ , but through the passing millenniums, even a semi-immortal species such as vampires evolved as they shifted closer to humans and their norms of civilisations. But the talk of churches and Bibles and God still remained somewhat tabooed, so they shifted topic quickly towards-

"What's that smell?" Drache wrinkled his nose in the direction of the entrance. "It reminds me of that boy and girl just now…"

Theresa had smelled it too, a strange mixture of old blood and carrion, accompanied by a dank musky odour like the one of a wet dog, and she let a fraction of her disdain show. "Yes, but at the same time, it's somewhat different. This is… stronger."

"Revolting," her friend remarked, and she agreed.

"I wonder what it is."

Unhappy mutters were rising, and Theresa saw more than one vampire cover their sensitive noses with handkerchiefs in a feeble attempt to ward off the growing scent.

Conversations dwindled as two shadows approached the restaurant's translucent doors that were drawn open to let the guests in. But the moment they stepped in – two men with pride nearing arrogance straightening their spines – the smell became overwhelming and Theresa forgave herself for gagging.

One man, a tall, imposing figure in a dark suit cut near his broad shoulders that made his skin – impossibly pale, even for a vampire – stand out in stark contrast, approached the doorman, whose posture was stiff with restraint, but his disgust professionally hidden under a mask of cool. They exchanged a few quiet words, all conversations ending abruptly as everyone tried to gorge out who this man was.

They didn't need to wait. The doorman was shaking his head, saying – refusing something, and then-

Theresa wasn't even sure what happened, but one moment the doorman was there, and the next, he was not. The room was silent save for the barely audible dripping of- what?

Then, a smell, a different smell, hit her: blood, not human, but dead, undying, not touching the living, immortal blood.

There was a soft cry, Theresa looked up, and saw a horrific smear of blood against the ceiling, ragged strips of cloth and torn bits of meat stuck to the surface, and on the crystal chandelier…

The second man, not so tall but with just as much air of authority gained by his greying hair, snarled, an animalistic sound that could never be human but wasn't vampire either…

The windows shattered, but those nearby weren't given the chance to react as fangs cleaved into throats and claws ripped vessels into shreds

Theresa hadn't realised that she was standing but her chair had toppled over behind her, her gray eyes painfully wide as she barely had the chance to take everything in before her motionless heart realized what was happening before her brain and her body reacted all on its own. Her jaw unhinged wide, an unnecessary breath catching in her throat, then bursting out through her mouth when one of _them_ looked up at her with glowing red eyes and grinned through fangs and teeth.

Her scream cut through the air, pierced past the walls and rattled the building, and then _it_ lunged, and Death – _the real thing it was there she could_ see _it_ – swooped in.

 **π** **ρωίωςτοβράδυ**

Some small, guilty part of her had expected it, but at the same time, it came as a horrifying shock. The moment Petrescu said that the location of their base had been revealed, she might have known what was going to happen, and the moment that first scream pierced like an arrow through the white hallways and into the room, she had known. Perhaps she just didn't expect them to move so goddamn _fast_.

The Shadowlock clan was known to be peaceful, civilized. They were not cultivated into killers and beasts and they were _proud_ of it; that was their _pride_.

How _very_ useful pride was in the face of Death.

The first vampire she had met after being Turned was Costin Petrescu, and she had never known how terribly animalistic a vampire truly was until it was explained and shown to her because she herself had always, in the two hundred years of solitude and immortality, tried to be human when she was anything _but_.

Dreyon, she knew, was wild, and maybe that was because the Nightwalkers drank living, human blood and maybe- even though they were _vampires_ , maybe- Maybe they weren't supposed to.

If animal blood was water, blood bags were cartons of juice or milk, then fresh blood would be alcohol or coffee or _drugs_ because yes, it was wonderful, the best thing she had ever tasted, but it drives you mad and it ruins you.

Vampires are, technically speaking, walking corpses who couldn't get the notion of life out of their heads. That was where the blood comes in: liquid life that gave you the warmth and satisfaction of life, but you're _not_ alive, nothing can ever change that, and that was what drove so many creatures like them utterly insane. They knew it too. They knew that something was wrong, they just didn't know _what_ and when they realize that the only true way out of this was Death… It simply wasn't acceptable.

Rose reversed death and life, and that made her precious; werewolves were beasts, but they were alive, and that made them despicable. Shadowlocks were beasts, they were dead, but they _pretended_ to be alive, and that was the greatest sin of all.

Outside, it was a massacre.

Her ears felt stuffed with screams, her nose congested with the scent of blood and dead meat, but her eyes – they were wiped clear and clean and she could see _everything_. And it terrified her because- Vampires were strong, they were fast, so why was that girl struggling under a massive figure covered in fur? Why was that boy begging to a cackling woman with bloodstained clothes and hands? Why could she see _them_ feasting on rank blood and putrid flesh? Why-

 _"Ellis!"_ Why- Why was Dreyon looking at her like that, his eyes wide and for the first time she could see something in there that was human, alive, that was truly sad, that was regretful, but _why-?_

"Ellis!" he shouted again, and no, don't look at her like that, as if he was about to leave and- "Please." What? "Please, Ellis, promise me one thing."

She had always thought the color of his eyes were somewhat strange and murky, greenish brown like dirty pond water, but she had never realized that when it cleared it was green life on fresh dirt.

"Promise me you won't die."

 _I'm immortal_ , but she was not really. You couldn't be undying when you were already dead and that was why "I don't want to die."

Dreyon smiled tightly, and it was a sad, broken, conflicted thing. "Me neither."

And then he was gone, and those cold hands no longer clutched hers (she never even realized it there oh _God why-?_ ), and Ellis knew she was weeping nothingness when Petrescu cried out somewhere behind her while a cruel and familiar voice laughed, Melina screamed, struggling against another vampire's iron grip, and everything was silent to her.

Ellis was weeping, Petrescu was dead, Melina was captured, and Dreyon-

Dreyon was nowhere to be found.

 **XIX**

It wasn't even surprising or unexpected, just painful and regretful to know. And God knew he had enough regrets in his life, everything founded after he had met Ellis. So many regrets, because he should have known that day on October 18t, 1829 when his father, always eager for dinnertime, failed to make it home.

They had waited till eight and finally ate dinner with family missing missing, and he should have known, after another day missing, when his father returned early in the morning with pale skin and a feral grin, he should've known that his father was dead. Danger could be scented in the hallways, he should've told his mother to run, but it was his _father_ , and he would never lay a hand on his mother…?

It was suspicious when his mother left to the country home without a word or sign, and even more so the way his father wouldn't let him go visit her, even after months and months of disquiet silence. He should've known the first time his father laid a hand on _him_ , and it bruised his ribs and left him bedridden for a week.

And he should have known, that last and final time, when his father called him into his office (the family portrait had disappeared and he discovered that all the paintings of photographs of his mother and him were gone: a cold, lifeless room).

The first word to him was, "Come."

He stopped before the mahogany desk and his father stood, walking around and behind him to speak to the door and walls instead of him. "Do you know where your mother went?"

"The country home." It was a lie, and they all knew it.

"No." The man spun around, dark eyes gleaming with something he couldn't name. "She's not there. She's dead." And there it was: the truth. "I killed her." The terrible, horrific truth.

"Why did you do it?"

His question was ignored. "I can't let the same happen to you, my son. You cannot die like her. I've come so close-" _bruises blooming on his torso, blood filling his mouth from a knocked off tooth, shoulder aching after being stuffed back into its socket by a rough hand_ "-it cannot happen again."

"Why did you do it?"

He only saw him take one step, but suddenly the man stood before him, too close, too cold. The back of his legs bumped against the desk when he tried to retreat, and then an icy hand wrapped around his neck. His head was forced to one side, exposing blue veins pulsing in his throat.

"I didn't want to."

Something pierced into him, through the skin, the muscle, the vein bursting, and he found himself screaming but didn't realize it at first because the world was melting and the only thing he could feel was pain-

Afterwards, pain did not come easily. When you are dead, pain did not affect you. It is merely a surprise, an echo of liveliness that made it almost addictive.

Except he feared it. It was supposed to bring you back to life but he was terrified. He'd rather be dead than in pain and that was how he felt now. The pain was killing him. It wouldn't cease, setting every single cell aflame, and he didn't understand why or what it was that they injected into him, that long, thin needle poking through the skin and into the vessel in his neck, and then it was pain, all over again. Life worked in cycles – it was funny that way; but no one told him that Death shared the same sick humor.

Except- except this wasn't Death. It dawned onto him like a bird spreading its wings and gliding onto the ground, touching down gracefully and expectedly. Death was not painful – Life was.

And he knew he was right when something inside his chest jumped, then lurched, then a resounding boom that left his ears ringing and his body feeling hot and uncomfortable. It sounded like a drum, but he knew it wasn't. The same feeling happened again, but it no longer echoed. His eyes opened to darkness, his nose and ears were clogged, and then when he felt something inside him give a shout, Dreyon Morgen opened his mouth and took a deep breath, grasping at a fading world as his heart gave one last sputtering cough, and began to beat.


End file.
